
T.^.DENISON & COMPANY CHICAdO 



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DENISON'S ACTING PLAYS 

Partial List of Successful and Popular Plays. Large CataloKue Free. 
Price 15c eacli. Postpaid, Unless Different Price Is Given 



DRAMAS, COMEDIES, 
ENTERTAINMENTS, Etc. 

M. F. 

Aaron Boggs, Freshman, 3 

acts, 2% hrs (J5c) 8 8 

After the Game, 2 acts. 1^4 

hrs (,25c) 1 9 

All a Mistake, o acts, J hrs. 

(25c) 4 4 

American Hustler, 4 acts, 2Y2 

hrs (25c) 7 4 

Arabian Nights, 3 acts, 2 hrs. 4 5 
As a Woman Thinketh, 3 acts, 

2y2 hrs (25c) 9 7 

At the End of the Rainbow, 3 

acts, 2Yi hrs (25c) 6 14 

Bank Cashier, 4 acts, 2 hrs. 

(25c) 8 4 

Black Heifer, 3 acts, 2 hrs. 

(25c) 9 3 

Brookdale Farm, 4 acts, 2J4 

hrs (25c) 7 3 

Brother Tosiah, 3 acts, 2 hrs. 

(25c) 7 4 

Burns Rebellion, 1 lir (25c) 8 5 

Busy Liar, 3 acts. 2]!x hrs. 

(25c) 7 4 

College Town, 3 acts, 2% 

hrs (25c) 9 S 

Corner Drug Store, 1 hr. 

(25c) 17 14 

Danger Signal, 2 acts, 2 hrs.. 7 4 
Daughter of the Desert. 4 

acts, 214 hrs (25c) 6 4 

Down in Dixie, 4 acts, -'4 

hrs \ 2Sc) 8 4 

Dream That Came True, 3 

acts, 214 hrs (25c) 6 13 

Editor-in-l„hief, 1 hr. ...(25c) 10 
Enchanted Wood, 1 -; 4 h.(35c).Optnl. 
Everyyouth, 3 acts, llj hrs. 

(25c) 7 6 

Face at the Window, 3 acts, 2 

hrs (25c) 4 4 

Fascinators, 40 min (25c) 13 

Fun on the Podunk Limited, 

114 hrs (25c) 9 14 

Heiress of Hoetown, 3 :ict<. 2 

hrs (25c) 8 4 

High School Freshman, 3 acts, 

2 hrs (25c) 12 

Honor of a Cowboy, 4 acts, 2^^ 

hrs (25c) 13 4 

Indian Days, 1 hr (5nc) 5 2 

In Plum Valley, 4 acts. 2 '4 

hrs (25c) 6 4 

Iron Hand, 4 acts. 2 hrs..(2Sc) 5 4 
Jayville Junction, IVz hrs. (25c) 14 17 
Kingdom of Heart's Content, 3 

acts, 2% hrs (25e) 6 12 

Lexington, 4 acts, 2li h..(25c) 9 4 



M. F. 

Light Brigade, 40 min (25c) 10 

Little Buckshot, 3 acts, 2^ hrs. 

(25c) 7 4 

Lodge of Kye Tyes, 1 hr.(25c)13 
Lonelyville Social Club, 3 acts, 

1^ hrs (25c) 10 

Man from Borneo, 3 acts, 2 

hrs (25c) 5 2 

Man from Nevada, 4 acts, 2^2 

hrs (25c) 9 5 

Mirandy's Minstrels (25c) Optnl. i 

New Woman, 3 acts 1 hr.... 3 6 
Old Maid's Club, v/z hrs. (25c) 2 16 
Old Oaken Bucket, 4 acts, 2 

hrs (25'-) 8 6 

Old School at Hick'ry Holler, 

114 hrs (25c) 12 9 

On the Little Big Horn, 4 acts, 

21/2 hrs (25c) 10 1 

Out in the Streets, 3 acts, 1 hr. 6 4 
Prairie Rose, 4 acts, 2j4 hrs. 

(25c) 7 4 

Rustic Romeo, 2 acts, 2^ 

hrs '. (25c) 10 12 

School Ma'am, 4 acts, 1^4 hrs. 6 S 
Scrap of Paper, 3 acts, 2 hrs. . 6 6 
Soldier of Fortune. 5 acts, 2^2 h. 8 3 
Southern Cinderella, 3 acts, 2 

hrs (25c) 7 

Third Degree, 40 min (25c) 12 

Those Dreadful Twins, 3 acts, 

2 hrs (25c) 6 4 

Tonv, The Convict, 5 acts, 21/2 

'hrs (25c) 7 4 

Topp's Twins, 4 acts> 2 h.(25c) 6 4 
Town Marshal, 4 acts, 2% 

hrs * (25c) 6 3 

Trip to Stoovland, I14 hr.s.(25c) 17 23 
Uncle Josh, 4 acts, 214 hrs. (25c) 8 3 
Under Blue Skies, 4 acts, 2 

hrs (25c) 7 10 

Under the Laurels, 5 acts, 2 hrs. 6 4 
When the Circus Came to 

Town. 3 acts, 214 hrs. (35c) 5 3 
Women Who Did, 1 hr. . . (25c) 17 
Yankee Detective, 3 acts, 2 hrs. 8 3 

FARCES, COIMEDIETAS, Etc. 

April Fools, 30 min 3 

Assessor. The, 10 min 3 2 

Babv Show at Pineville, 20 min. 19 1 

Bad' Job, 30 min 3 2 

Betsy Baker, 45 min. ........ 2 2 

Billv's Chorus Girl, 25 min... 2 3 

Billy's Mishap, 20 min 2 3 

Borrowed Luncheon. 20 min.. 5 

Borrowing Trouble, 20 min.... 3 5 

Box and Cox, 35 min 2 1 

Case Against Casey, 40 min... 23 1 

Convention of Papas, 25 min.. 7 

Country Justice, 1 5 min 8 

Cow that Kicked Chicago, 20 m. 3 2 



T.S.DENISON & COMPANY,Publishers.154W.RandoiphSt..Chi& 



All on Account of Polly 



A COMEDY IN THREE ACTS 



BY 

HARRY L. NEWTON 

AUTHOR OF 

ilie Corner Drug Store," "Everyyouth," "The Goodfellow," "Tin 

Heiress of Hoetoivn," "Jayiille Junction," "A Rehearsal at 

Ten," "The Rest Cure," "The Spark of Life," 

"IV hen the Circus Came to Town" Etc. 




CHICAGO 

T. S. DENISON & COMPANY 

Publishers 



4 ALL ON ACCOUNT OF POLLY. 

junk like an English butler." ''How about you, Marie?" 
"I'm no foreigner; I'm Irish." "Ah, the rich! The only 
thing American they'll tolerate about the house is money." 
Harkins listens to advice. "Grab yourself a pick and shovel. 
Ye might get a crick in yer back, but it won't be from bow- 
ing and scraping to a bunch of Feather-Stones and Chad- 
fields." "Made-in-America" language, habits and things 
are good enough for me. Why imitate foreigners?" Peter 
loses his monocle — and other things. "Here, Polly, is the 
first dollar I ever earned." "There's twenty-eight dollars 
here, Baldwin." Bajdwin discovers he has had a raise in 
salary. Pudgy and Tommy from the tenements call. Peter 
asks for a job — and gets one. Polly and Baldwin are alone. 
"What's a little thing like a kiss between sweethearts?" 
The reformation of the Beverly family is complete. "Just 
a Song at Twilight." 



STORY OF THE PLAY. 

At the opening of the play the affairs of the Beverly 
household have reached a critical stage. Mr. Beverly, a 
man of large affairs in New York City, is surrounded by 
two extravagant, luxury loving daughters, a reckless, spend- 
thrift son and a wife who, improvident herself, has spoiled 
her children from the time they were born. 

The Beverly family has been spending money faster than 
the head of the house can earn it. Beverly is beset with 
creditors who even follow him out to his sumptuous Long 
Island home and threaten proceedings. He tries to make 
his family see the necessity of economy and warns them of 
the inevitable crash impending. Instead of heeding him, 
however, his warning is greeted with sneers and criticism 
and they decide that he is an old "grouch." 

Into this clouded atmosphere of selfishness, deceit and 
false show comes Polly Perkins, Mr. Beverly's ward and 
a modest heiress. The Beverly mode of living on Long 
Island is in decided contrast to the simple New England 
village life to which she has been accustomed and for a 
moment she loses her bearings. But her heart and under- 



ALL ON ACCOUNT OF POLLY. 5 

standing are as big as all out doors and her eternal optim- 
ism and good will soon assert themselves. She brings with 
her the freedom and fragrance of the New England Berk- 
shires, and instead of adapting herself to her new surround- 
ings, she sets out to make them conform to her own 
standards of simplicity and' happiness. Her very presence 
clarifies the atmosphere. 

Not content with reforming the Beverly household, she 
goes into the poor districts of the village and even there 
her winning personality works miracles. Through her kind- 
ness of heart two ragged, unwashed children are introduced 
into high society, causing joy, consternation and condem- 
nation among the various members of the "400." 

Beverly returns from the city a ruined man and his fam- 
ily face the prospect of moving into a Harlem flat, which 
to their way of thinking is worse than death. At this junc- 
ture Polly comes to the rescue and with sublime faithful- 
ness places her legacy, which represents every penny she 
has in the world, into the hands of her guardian to help 
him stem the tide. 

In the meantime Beverly's son Baldwin, who makes love 
to every pretty face he meets, has fallen desperately in love 
with Polly. It proves the making of him. He actually goes 
to work for the first time in his life. 

Through Polly's influence we see the better instincts of 
the Beverly family and their friends come to the surface. 
They realize that money is not everything, that social posi- 
tion and false friends do not constitute happiness and that 
Polly Perkins is a wonderful little person. Her guardian is 
saved from ruin and she finds her own happiness in the 
good she has wrought and the true love of Baldwin Beverly. 



CHARACTERS AND COSTUMES. 

Beverly — Typical New York business man of today, 
aged about 50. Wears expensive, showy clothes in Acts I 
and II, but a more modest suit in Act III. In Act I he 
reveals a cold and selfish nature ; in Act II he loses much 
of this and in Act ITT he is kinrl and tlioucihtful. 



6 ALL ON ACCOUNT OF POLLY. 

Mrs. B. — About 45. In Act I she is attired in a handsome 
morning negligee. In Act II, wears a beautiful afternoon 
gown, and in Act III, a quiet, simple costume. While she 
is not altogether a cold-hearted woman, she is always snap- 
pish and haughty, except when her latent mother-instinct 
is brought to the surface. In Act III her disposition has 
luidergone a complete transformation and she is sweet, 
motherly and unselfish. 

Baldwin — Dashing young fellow of about 24. He is nat- 
urally warm-hearted and impulsive but has been spoiled. 
His one thought in hfe is the pleasure to be gotten out of 
it. He has been taught that ''coin is king," and with money 
one can "get away with anything." He is a desperate flirt 
and has never had a sincere thought regarding the girls 
until Polly arrives. But with all his faults he is a truly 
likable chap. In Act I he wears a golf costume. In Act II, 
fashionable afternoon clothes, and in Act III, modest busi- 
ness suit. 

HoRTENSE — Pretty girl of 19 or 20. In Act I she is 
attired in a rather untidy negligee. In Act II she wears a 
simple house frock, changing to elaborate afternoon gown, 
and in Act III, a very simple, pretty girlish frock. She, 
like all the other members of the Beverly family, is selfish 
and believes that money comes above everything else. 

Geraldine — Pretty, winsome girl of 17 or 18. Keenly 
alive at all times and never has a serious thought. She 
is inclined to be satirical and finds delight in "picking" on 
the other members of the family. With all, she is warm- 
hearted and highly impulsive. In Act I her appearance is 
untidy. In Act II she appears first in a modest house frock 
and changes to handsome afternoon gown. In Act HI 
wears a pretty, girlish frock. 

Peter — About 25 years of age. While he is an Ameri- 
can, he had early acquired the mimicry of English fops, 
with, the monocle habit and drawling, exaggerated accent. 
Born of wealthy parents, he has never had to do much 
thinking for himself, and in consequence is slow and stupid 
in speech and action. Wears' fashionable clothes through- 
out. 



ALL ON ACCOUNT OF POLLY. 7 

Young — About 5S years old. Dresses in cheap clothing, 
denoting his close-fisted nature. Speaks with drawling 
Yankee dialect and has a bit of real humor in his soul. 

Mrs. F. — Perhaps 40 years of age and typically a society 
woman. Her manner and speech are highly colored and 
her every action exaggerated. 

Mrs. C. — A counterpart of Mrs. Feather-Stone, but a 
few years younger. 

Polly — About 19 years old. An affectionate, pretty girl, 
fairly brimming over with the joy of living and youthful 
animation. When first seen in Act I she is timid and shy, 
but gradually grows more sure of herself, although at no 
time does she approach boldness. In Act I she is inclined 
to be dowdy. In Act II she wears a pretty dress of white, 
and in Act III a pretty evening gown. 

Marie — Twenty-five years old. A rather pretty and 
typical Irish parlor-maid. Has a ready tongue and knows 
how to use it. Dresses throughout in regulation house- 
maid's uniform. 

Harkins — A 'regular stage butler, English accent and 
with every action bordering on the burlesque. English 
butler's regalia and wears mutton-chop whiskers. 

Miss R. — A pretty girl of 20. She is fairly able to take 
care of herself. Chews gum and uses slang with equal 
ease. Dresses neatly, as becomes a girl of her occupation. 

Miss B. — Also about 20. A counterpart of Miss Rem- 
brandt, but is more inclined to "dress." 

Pudgy — Fourteen years of age. Must be capable of 
speaking lines cleverly. Her clothing in Act II is ragged 
and patched ; shoes run-down and stockings mis-mated. 
Her face and hands are streaked with dirt. In Act III she 
has undergone a transformation and appears as ''quite a 
young lady." 

Tommy — Eleven or twelve years old. Must also be 
clever. In Act II he is the typical child waif and in Act III 
is all togged up *'fit to kill." 



ALL OX ACCOUNT OF POLLY 



LIST OF PROPERTIES 

Act I — Legal document for Beverly. Eight or ten sealed 
letters for Harkins. Purse and money for Airs. Beverly. 
Promissory note for Young. Manicure tools for Miss 
Rembrandt. Glass bowl and water for manicuring. Maga- 
zine for Geraldine. Flowers for Peter. Suitcase, travel- 
ing bag, hat-box and parcels for Polly. 

Act II — Basin and pail of water ; soap and towels. 
Cookies and other dainties for children's luncheon. Check- 
book, pen and legal document for Beverly ; promissory note 
for Y'oung. Roses for Baldwin. 

Act III — Door bell to ring off stage. Skein of worsted, 
piece of linen and needle for Hortense and bit of fancy 
work for Geraldine. Pay envelope and money (bills) for 
Baldwin. 

Note. — "Love's Old Sweet Song" can be purchased at nearly 
every music store. We will send it postpaid upon receipt of price. 
40 cents. If desired some other song can be used instead. 



STAGE SETTING. 



.Double , 



Archway Dcor to 

to Mus[C Room Library 

OChair Chair O 



STAGE DIRECTIONS. 

R., means right of stage ; C. center ; R. C, right center ; 
L., left; R. D., right door; L. D., left door, etc.; / E., first 
entrance; U. E., upper entrance; R. j E., right entrance, 
upstage, etc. ;D.F., door in flat or scene running across back 
of the stage ; upstage, away from footlights.; downstage, 
near footlights; / G., first groove, etc. The actor is sup- 
posed to be facing the audience. 



All on Account of Polly 



Act I. 

Scene: Handsome living room of the Beverlys. Double 
doors at center. An archzvay at right opening into the 
music room in which can be seen a portion of a baby grand 
piano. A door at left opening into library. A small writing 
desk at back to right of center. The furniture and deco- 
rations are expensive and showy and selected zvith indiffer- 
ent taste. Late morning, lights full up all through act. See 
Scene Plot for stage setting. 

At rise enter Harkins, C. D. He has the mornings mail 
{eight or ten letters) and deposits them on desk. He is 
about to exit again, C. D., when — 

Enter Baldwin, R. He is dressed in a golf suit with 
knickerbocker trousers, etc. and cap. 

Baldwin. I say, Harkins. 

Harkins (faces Baldwin inquiringly). Yes, i\Ir. Bald- 
win. 

Baldwin. Have you seen the gov'nor this morning? 

Harkins. Yes, sir ; a few moments ago, sir. 

Baldwin. Did you — ah. — did you happen to notice — 
was he wearing a grouch? 

Harkins (pu.cded). ^^^earing a — oh, I see, sir. \Vell, 
sir, if you ask me, I should say that he wasn't in the best 
of spirits, sir. 

Baldwin. Hum ! Quite as I expected. Dad is in no 
mood for a bit of financial strategy. (Harkins lifts eye- 
brozus inquiringly.) In other words, Harkins, a ''touch." 
That is all, Harkins. Thanks for the tip. 

Harkins. Thank you, sir. (Bows and exits C. D.) 

Baldwin (pounces on letters on desk and runs them 
over rapidly). Shucks! Nothing at all encouraging in that 
bunch. Just cold-blooded duns from vulgar trades-people. 

9 



10 ALL ON ACCOUNT OF POLLY. 

I'd know them blindfolded. (Tosses letters earelesslv back 
on desk.) 

Enter Mrs. Beverly from R. She is hi handsome neg- 
ligee. Carries a purse. 

Mrs. Beverly. Morning, Baldwin, (Offers her cheek 
for kiss.) 

Baldwin. Ah, miivver. (Takes off cap, tosses it into 
convenient chair, kisses her, then takes both her hands, 
steps back a pace or tzvo and looks adiniringly at her.) Say, 
muvver, do you know that you actually grow younger every 
day? 

Mrs. B. (taps him tenderly on cheek). You behave! I 
know what it means when you try to knock a few years 
ofif my tree of life with complimentary sticks. 

Baldwin (innocently) . Eh, what? 

Mrs. B. I know. Your bank account has a ''flat tire.'' 

Baldwin (laut^hs). Righto! (Cheerfully.) What's the 
chance of "inflating'' said "flat tire?" 

Mrs. B. Not the slightest — from me. (Sighs.) You 
must ask your father. 

Baldwin. Don't make me laugh so early in the morn- 
ing. Dad is off me for life. (Earnestly.) Look here, 
mother. I must have money — quite a sum. My tailor 
is acting ugly, my club has me posted up for dues, and 
— oh, there's a thousand things I've simply just got to take 
care of — quick, too. 

Mrs. B. (sadly). I'm sorry, my boy; but it is simply out 
of the question — 

Baldwin (interrupting, eagerly). But, dad? Can't you 
talk to him ? 

Mrs. B. (thoughtfully) . There must be some way — 
(suddenly) yes, Baldwin, I shall talk to him. It is not right 
that he should refuse what is your just due. Run along 
now and I will see what can be done. 

Baldwin (kisses her lightly on cheek). That's the idea, 
muvver. You know how. (Aside.) I'll be hanged if / do. 
See you later. (Exits C. D.) 



ALL ON ACCOUNT OF POLLY. 11 

Marie enters R. She zvears the conventional parlor- 
maid uniform of black skirt, zvaist, white apron, cuffs and 
lace cap. She carries a vase of cut flowers and deposits 
them on table near C. 

Mrs. B. Has Mr. Beverly left for business, Marie? 

Marie (zvith slight Irish brogue). No, ma'am; he's still 
in the lie-berry. 

Mrs. B. Ask him if he can spare me a few moments 
before he leaves. Say that it is important. I will wait 
here. (Marie bozvs respectfully and exits R.) Yes, some- 
thing must be done! (Crosses to desk, gathers up the let- 
ters.) Bills, bills, bills! (Sighs heavily.) First day of the 
month, and — no funds. (Tosses letters carelessly back on 
desk, disgustedly.) Well, it's nothing to me. I am not 
going to develop white hair and wrinkles ; it's up to Ralph 
He simply must do something. (TJiroivs purse on desk.) 

Enter Beverly, L. He carries hat, stick and gloves. 

Beverly. You wish to speak to me, dear? (She turns. 
He takes his zvatch from pocket and frozvns as he notes 
time. ) 

Mrs. B. Yes, Ralph. I've hardly had a glimpse of you 
for several days, and — and I — T — (hesitates, seemingly at 
a loss to go on). 

Beverly (coldly). Well? 

Mrs. B. (impulsively). It's money! 

Beverly (sighs zvearily). I am doing all that is possible, 
my dear. (Tzvists gloves nerz;ously betzveen fingers.) No 
business — things look verv uncertain. (Again notes time.) 

Mrs. B. Credit? 

Beverly (nervously). I've gone my limit. 

Mrs. B. (impatiently). Rubbish! Ralph Beverly's name 
should serve to raise plenty of cash, and — 

Beverly (interrupting). You — you don't understand. 
No, no. I don't mean to censure you. It's not a woman's 
place to — to — 

Mrs. B. (interrupting). Perhaps not. But a woman is 
the first to sufifer the agony of a depleted bank account. 
(Gathers up envelopes from desk. J^ehemently.) Look! 



12 ALL OX ACCOUXT OF POLLY. 

These are what I have to understand. Bills, bills, bills! 
(Crushes them in her hand and flings them back on desk.) 
Shop-keepers ! They torture me by day and haunt my 
dreams by night! Where, where Avill it all end? (Sinks 
wearily into a chair.) 

Beverly (paces nervously about, then stops and drazvs 
himself coldly erect). Jane, did it ever occur to you that 
our present financial condition might have been prevented 
by a little economy on your part? (She straightens quickly, 
but he checks her intended speech by a gesture.) Wait! 
Those bills you refer to — all luxuries ! Yes, luxuries, every 
one of them, and mighty expensive ones, too. 

Mrs. B. (spiritedly). Luxuries! Party gowns, motors, 
flowers, manicuring, hair dressing, wines. You call those 
things luxuries ? Why, they are absolute necessities ! 

Beverly (with a despairing gesture). Time was when 
we managed to do without them. (Vehemently.) And we 
must do without them again. 

Mrs. B. (excitedly, to feet). What! Are you going 
crazy ? 

Beverly (wearily). Almost. But it isn't a question of 
my sanity. It's a vital question of my income covering 
the cost of our living. No other man of my acquaintance 
has the improvident, reckless, extravagant family that sur- 
rounds me. 

Baldwin appears at C. D. He starts to enter, then steps 
aside to first reconnoiter. 

Mrs. B. (shocked at his tirade). Ralph Beverly! You 
forget yourself. I rise in defense of my children. You 
have been most shamefully neglectful of them — especially 
Baldwin. The poor boy barely has enough allowance to 
keep him decently. (Baldwin nods his approval.) He 
must have more money. (Baldwin again nods.) 

Beverly (angrily). Baldwin has had his last dollar from 
me. He must go to work. (Baldwin grimaces and sneaks 
in comedy tip-toe manner across C. D. opening and off R.) 
Also, Hortense must get over her extravagant ideas of life. 



ALL ON ACCOUNT OF POLLY. 13 

And Ge:r:\\dme( despairing gesture) — by gad, she is incor- 
rigible ! 

Mrs. B. (aghast). Ralph Beverly! You have indeed 
taken sudden leave of your senses. Hortense has a bril- 
liant future in her music. She must not neglect it ; I shall 
see to that! (Stamps her foot emphatically.) 

Hortense meanzvhile has entered the music room and 
now bursts forth into a popular ragtime song, accompany- 
ing herself on the piano in a highly burlesque manner. 
Beverly displays his disgust by a grimace and throzvs up 
both hands. 

Mrs. B. Hortense! (calling to Hortense.) Hortense! 
Stop, child. {Music stops.) Your father and I can't hear 
each other. Some other time, dear. 

Hortense (in music room, fretfully). Oh, mother, 
you're always telling me to stop when I get started. (Rises 
from piano stool, disdainfully shrugs shoulders and disap- 
pears off R.) 

Beverly. I do not mean to be brutal, my dear, but 
there's an end to everything — even money. 

Mrs. B. Nevertheless, I intend to be suppHed with 
money according to my station. 

Beverly (gently). You are right, Jane. I have given 
>ou this station. (Sighs.) I have no right to change it. 

Mrs. B. As for my allowance, it has at all times been 
insufficient for our needs — really insufficient. And I don't 
see how I can accept any reduction. 

Beverly (drazving close to her and speaking earnestly 
and pleadingly) . Let us go back to the old life, dear. We'll 
begin all over again, away from this stifling luxury, this 
low plotting and maneuvering to acquire things which we 
do not own, but which own us, chain us, eat us up. 

Mrs. B. (drazving azvay from him in shocked surprise). 
What! Give up this? (Indicating room zvith a szveep of 
her hand.) Go back to — to (checks further speech zvith a 
shudder of disgust). Never! 

Beverly (resignedly). You are right. You would never 
be content with the old life — after this. 



14 ALL ON ACCOUNT OF POLLY. 

Mrs. B. And neither would you. 

Beverly (sighs). Oh, if I only could! 
. Mrs. B. {coldly). You forget I am your wife. 

Beverly (quickly). No, I don't. You won't let me. 
(Consults zvatch, puts on hat and starts for C. D.) 

Mrs. B. (checking him). Ralph, you must hear me out. 
You speak of your ''improvident," "reckless" and "extrav- 
agant" family, and now you are planning to increase your 
burden by the adoption of your ward — Polly Perkins — an 
ignorant, moneyless girl from a little New England village. 
Ralph, you are an enigma. 

Beverly (glances cautiously about, confidentially) . You 
have forced my hand in this matter. I intended to — well, 
I didn't propose you should know just what my idea was 
in having Polly come here, but — see here. (Draws a legal 
document from inside pocket of coat.) This makes me the 
sole trustee of her estate. 

Mrs. B. (surprised). Estate? 

Beverly. Yes — a matter of $25,000, principally in cash. 
Now do you understand? (Restores paper to pocket.) 

Mrs. B. (agitatedly). And you? You would — 

Beverly (interrupting). I am desperate. Her money 
will tide me over — give me a chance to recuperate finan- 
cially — it means my very existence. For you and the chil- 
dren it means more. This! (indicates with the szveep of a 
hand the surrounding luxury.) It is either her money, or — 
( sh rugs sign ifican tly ) . 

Mrs. .B. You would not use this girl's money — you 
would not become a thief? 

Beverly (laughs easily). Thief! Nonsense. I would 
merely invest her money for her. 

Mrs. B. And if you should lose? 

Beverly (shrugs). One never can tell. 

Mrs. B. (agitatedly). Oh, Ralph, Ralph, you must not! 

Beverly (carelessly). Oh, very well. Perhaps you may 
enjoy a week or two more of this gilded existence, but I 
doubt it. As it looks to me now, it's merely a matter of 
hours, and then — 

Mrs. B. And then? 



ALL ON ACCOUNT OF POLLY. 15 

Beverly. And then a Harlem six-room apartment and 
a peevish janitor. {She raises both hands in horror at the 
thought and grimaces in disgust.) You see, my dear. 

Mrs. B. (undecided). I — I don't know what to say. 

Harkins appears in C. D. 

Beverly (to Harkins). What is it, Harkins? 

Harkins (stiffly). A person to see you, sir; name is 
Young. 

Mrs. B. (startled, aside). The loan shark! 

Beverly (glances significantly at her, hesitates, then to 
Harkins). Show Mr. Young in, Harkins. (Harkins 
bows respectfully and exits R. of C. D.) 

Mrs. B. Why does that person come here? 

Beverly (laughs coldly). He comes here because he 
hasn't been able to obtain an audience with me at my New 
York office. 

Mrs. B. The contemptible scoundrel ! 

Beverly (defensively) . No, dear; he's not — at least, he 
wasn't when he handed me several thousand dollars. 
(Chuckles.) - 

Harkins appears in C. D. from R. 

Harkins (stiffly announcing). Mr. Silas Young. 

Young appears in C. D. from R. He stares curiously 
at the haughty Harkins and then at Beverly and Mrs. B. 
Harkins's nose is further uplifted as he stalks majestically 
off R. Mrs. B., zvith a look of disgust, retires to desk. sits. 
back to Young. 

Beverly (to Young, zvho is toying aivkwardly z^'ith hat 
held betzveen his fingers). Come, what's on your mind? I 
can only spare you a moment or two. I am already late 
for business. (Nervously glances at his zvatch.) 

Young (advances azvkzvardly into room a couple of 
paces). I called to see you regarding that — that (glances 
inquiringly at Mrs. B.'s uninviting back). 

Beverly (impatiently). Don't mind Mrs. Beverly. I 
have nothing to conceal from her. 



16 ALL ON ACCOUNT OF POLLY. 

Young (nervonsly shifts from one foot to the other, 
while he glances curiously about the apartment). Hum! 
Purty nice sort of a place ye got here, Mr. Beverly. (Mrs. 

B. turns and throzvs a scornful look at him.) 

Beverly {attempting to appear at ease). We like it. Mr. 
Young. But you didn't come here this morning merely to 
admire my home, did you ? 

Young {drawling). No-o, not exactly. I took the lib- 
erty of callin' at yer home, fer the reason that I couldn't 
somehow connect with you in yer New York office. 
{Draius paper from an inside pocket.) I got a leetle some- 
thin' comin' to me on this, and — 

Beverly {interrupting, rapidly). Yes, yes; I know. I 
haven't forgotten that little obligation ; and you shall have 
my check as soon as I reach my office this morning. Sorry, 
but you will have to excuse me — very busy, you know. If 
you're going down to the village, my car is waiting at the 
door. (To 'Mrs. B.) Good-bye, dear. {Starts for C. D.) 

Young {checks Beverly's attempted departure by rais- 
ing a commanding hand). Jest a minute, Mr. Beverly. 
Jest ye hold yer bosses. I got a leetle talk I ain't never 
talked yet, and ye gotta listen while I talk it. I also got 
a note here for four thousand two hundred dollars, and it's 
a long time past due. Ye've been doin' some fancy staUin' 
and I'm all tired out tryin' to get close enough to ye to 
collect, so — 

Beverly {interrupting, impatiently). I told you you 
would have my check today. 

YoL^NG {patiently). If my mem'ry serves me right, ye 
told me that several times before. But ye ain't never goin' 
to get a chance to tell me agin. 

Beverly {angrily). Don't you dare threaten me! 

Young {mildly). I ain't a-threatenin' ye. I'm jest tellin' 
ye. (Places note carefidly back in his pocket and turns to 

C. D.) I'm sorry to have to talk severe-like, especially in 
the presence of a lady. {Glances at Mrs. B.) But des- 
perate cases require desperate remedies. I'll give ye jest 
one week to remember to mail me yer check, in full. As 
fer ye ridin' me to the village in yer automobile, nothin' 



i 



ALL ON ACCOUNT OF POLLY. 17 

doin'. It ain't at all likely it's paid fer, so I'd feel more 
comfortable walkin'. And if ye paid the men ye owe, 
they'd be ridin' and ye'd be walkin'. That's erbout all, Mr. 
Beverly. Good day. Sorry to have detained ye from busi- 
ness. (Starts to exit CD.) 

Beverly. Just a moment, Mr. Young. I'll have Har- 
kins show you out. 

Young. 'Tain't necessary. I never believe in havin' a 
hired man workin' fer nothin', so I won't put yer Harkins 
to any extra labor on my account. {Bozving mockingly he 
exits CD.) 

Mrs. B. (springs angrily to her feet, facing the crest- 
fallen Beverly). Ralph Beverly! That man insulted you! 

Beverly (dryly). Yes, dear, and I swallowed it. 
(Quickly.) The man is right. He has money due him and 
is entitled to consideration. Now you must realize what I 
am up against. He is but one of the many creditors who 
are daily hounding me. Am I right or wrong in acquiring 
the money of this "ignorant girl from a New England 
village?" 

Mrs. B. (hesitates, during zvhich she appears to be 
striving against the inevitable). You are right. For the 
sake of our children — but be careful. 

Beverly (pats her on shoulder in reassuring manner 
and lightly kisses her on cheek). Goodbye, dear. (Briskly 
to C D./ turns.) Please try and curtail somewhere along 
the expense line, won't you? (Exits C D., off R.) 

As Beverly is well off, Baldwin appears in C D., from 
L., looking after his father. Simultaneously Hortense 
appears at R. and Geraldine from L. Both girls are in 
disheveled negligee. 

Mrs. B. (surprised and gazing from one to the other). 
Well, for gracious sake! (Hortense and Geraldine tip- 
toe to C D., join Baldwin and all three peer off R. for 
an instant, then come dozvn to C. and turn inquiringly to 
Mrs. B.) 

Baldwin, Hortense and Geraldine (in chorus). WqW? 



18 ALL ON ACCOUNT OF POLLY. 

(They stare at Mrs. B. anxiously, hut she makes a despair- 
ing gesture and shrugs Jier shoulders.) 

Baldwin (fo Mrs. B.). That means that his royal high- 
ness did not come across. What? 

HoRTENSE. And that I don't get my new gown. Fudge! 

Geraldine. And I don't get the new things for my 
bedroom? (The three turn to each other in comic disinay.) 

Mrs. B. (sadly). My poor darHngs! 

Hortense. And it was such a lovely sl^ade, too. 

Mrs. B. (suddenly). Wait, children. (Glances cautiously 
all about.) I almost forgot. I have news for you. (The 
three ejaculate a surprised ''Ah!'') 

Baldwin. Good or bad? 

Mrs. B. (doubtfully). Yes, and no. 

Geraldine. Well, give us the gocKl — you're welcome to 
the bad. 

Mrs. B. Your father has been named trustee for a dis- 
tant connection of his — Polly Perkins. She — she is coming 
here to — to make her home with us. 

Hortense (shocked). Oh, mother! 

Geraldine. How dreadful ! 

Baldwin (thoughtfully). Hum! I can't figure whether 
that's good or bad news. (Brightly.) Is she pretty? 

Mrs. B. I don't know. Nobody ever saw her. 

Hortense (scornfidly). Polly Perkins! 

Geraldine. How can a girl be pretty with a name like 
that ? 

Baldwin (loftily). Oh, you never can tell by the label 
what's in a package. 

Mrs. B. (shocked). Baldwin! However, it isn't a ques- 
tion of the girl's beauty. She is an heiress. (Again the 
three ejacidate an ''AhT) 

Baldwin (briskly and jauntily rearranging his^ tie, etc.). 
Then she is very, very pretty. 

Geraldine. And when comes this Polly person, mother? 

Mrs. B. (startled). I— I don't know. Y^our father didn't 
say. (Suddenly.) Wait! .(Szviftly to desk, picks up let- 
ters, skims them over rapidly, stops at one, looks at it. then 
tears envelope open.) This is from her. (Reads it at a 



ALL ON ACCOUNT OF POLLY. 19 

glance and throzvs it back on desk. Aghast.) She will be 
here today! (Baldwin again carefully adjusts tie.) 

Geraldine (yazvning). Well, I'm quite sure that she's 
not going to spoil my whole day. It is me for the sun- 
parlor and the fifth chapter of Helen Glynn's latest love 
spasm. (Exits L.) 

HoRTENSE. As for me, back to my interrupted music. 
{Starts R.) 

Mrs. B. {to Hortense). No, no, my darling. Postpone 
your music — please! I must have quiet. 

Hortense {disdainfully tossing her head). Oh, I'm not 
seething with musical fever. I don't believe I shall ever 
become a high-brow in musical accomplishment. To me 
it's drudgery. I do it only to please you. 

Mrs. B. Yes, I know — but some other time, dear. Now 
go. (Hortense shrugs, exits R.) Oh, I don't know what 
to do, what to think. 

Baldwin. Precisely my position. How about the "in- 
flation" of my ''flat tire?" {Idly picks up Mrs. B.'s pnrse 
from desk.) Something must be done, you know. {Toys 
with purse absently.) 

Mrs. B. Yes, yes, dear. But you must be patient for a 
few days. 

Baldwin. Oh, / can be patient all right. But my cred- 
itors. How about them? 

Mrs. B. Everything will come out all right, Baldwin. 
Your father has promised. 

Baldwin {dryly). Yes, that's the best thing he does. 

Mrs. B. {sullenly). I can't give you what I don't possess. 

Baldwin (suddenly realizing:; the possibilities contained 
in her pnrse he is holding, weighing it appraisingly) . Hello! 
This your purse? 

Mrs. B. Yes, but— 

Baldwin (chidingly). Why, muvver — you're holding 
out on me. (Laughs.) How dare you? (Starts to open 
purse.) 

Mrs. B. (checks him in the act). No, no, dear; you 
mustn't. You can't have any of that money. I've already 
promised that — tomorrow, perhaps, I may be able to — give 



20 ALL ON ACCOUNT OF POLLY. 

you some — but — {takes purse from him.) There. Now 
you be a good boy and don't worry me any more today 
about horrid money matters. Promise? 

Baldwin. Huh ! I'll have to be a good boy. How can 
I be anything else but good without money? {Earnestly.) 
Now, see here. I wouldn't rave about this money thing un- 
less I were absolutely up against it. Besides — well, I don't 
call it playing fair with your only son not to supply him 
with a few dollars now and then. Things have come to a 
pretty pass in this house. Say, the gov'nor even mentioned 
something about me going to work. I — 

Mrs. B. {interrupting, sternly). Baldwin, you forget 
yourself! {Lays purse on desk.) You simply must wait. 
You don't seem to realize, much less care, what the present 
conditions are. Haven't I always been liberal with you? 

Baldwin {sullenly). Yes, but — {leans against desk). 

Mrs. B. Then don't be rude. {Pats his cheek tenderly.) 
You shall have money — don't worry. It's only for a day or 
two that I ask you to be patient. Now run along to the 
links. I have a thousand things to do. (Kisses him lightly 
and exits R.) 

Baldwin {as he leans dejectedly against desk, his eyes 
slowly fall and rest on his mother's purse. His hand strays 
to it and he picks it up. His glance cautiously surveys the 
room. He is tempted to open it, struggles against the desire 
and finally overcomes it, flinging purse hack on desk.) 
Shucks ! I may be broke, but I'm not going to turn thief. 
(Drazvs himself erect, goes to chair on zvhich he has thrown 
his cap, picks it up, tzmsts it thoughtfidly betzveen his 
fingers.) Work! That's rubbing it in. Great Scott! Never — 
I'll never work — not while I have my health and strength. 
{Slams cap viciously on head and starts for C. D.) 

Enter Harkins, C. D., followed by Miss Rembrandt. 
She carries small hag containing manicure tools. Baldwin 
pauses, smiles and removes his cap. 

Harkins {to Miss Rembrandt). Miss Hortense will 
see you here this morning, miss. {Crosses and exits R-.) 



ALL ON ACCOUXT OF POLLV. 21 

Baldwin {to Miss Rembrandt. 7cifli easy familianty). 
Good morning, little one. 

Miss R. (going to table and depositing bag on it). Miss 
Rembrandt, Mr. Beverly, if you please. ( Opens handbag, 
takes out stick of gum, places it carefully in mouth and 
chews it IV it h keen relish.) 

Baldwin {laughs good-naturedly). All right. But what's 
the idea of the high and mighty stuff? 

Miss R. {remoz'es hat and gloves). Now, you'd better 
run along, little boy. This is my busy day. (SJie is not 
exactly cold and haughty, but ratlier takes delight in a bit 
of repartee.) 

Baldwin. Say, a stick of gum hasn't a chance on earth 
with you, has it? As for my ''running along," I can do that 
any old time; but I can't always grab a chance to talk to 
a very pretty girl. (Sits on arm of chair and smirks at 
her.) 

Miss R. (opens bag, takes out manicure tools and places 
them on table). Say, I've heard that before. It's not 
original. 

Baldwin. I suppose every chap you meet tells you the 
same thing. 

Miss R. (dryly). Oh, no — only the sap-heads. 

Baldwin (grimaces) . Ooo! Now I should be very angry. 
But I'm not. Instead, I believe I shall have some work 
done. (Scons his finger nails.) 

Miss R. I'm a manicurist — not a brain specialist. 

Baldwin (laugJis good-naturedly). Say, you know, 
you're a bright young woman. Too bright by far for the 
job you're holding down. 

Miss R. (holds tip scissors). Yes, I'm real "cutting," 
ain't I ? 

Baldwin (slips off arm of chair, goes to table close to 
her). It's too bad a very pretty girl like you should be 
compelled to work for a living. It must be awfully hard 
to be poor. 

Miss R. You're wrong. It's the easiest thing in the 
world. 

Baldwin. Aw, shucks ! There's only one way I can play 



22 ALL ON ACCOUNT OF POLLY. 

even with, you, and that is by planting a kiss on those saucy 
Hps of yours. (Attempts to kiss her, she evades him.) 

Miss R. {zvith table betzveen them, good-naturedly) . Awh! 
You behave! (He starts for her, hut she evades him by 
edging around the table. Sternly.) Mr. Beverly, listen. 
I didn't mind a little good-natured chaffing from you, but 
now you're going too far. You seem to think that because 
you're rich and I'm poor, that you can — oh, what's the use. 
You don't understand. You've got too much money to 
understand anything but just one thing — money! I just 
want to ask you one thing, Mr. Beverly. Suppose some 
man would try to kiss' one of your sisters against her will, 
what would you do? 

Baldwin (fiercely, clinching fists). I'd send him home 
with his head in a sling. 

Miss R. (triumphantly). And there you are! 

Baldwin. Oh, but it's quite different in this case. 

Miss R. Why is it? 

Baldwin (hesitates, apparently trying to think of an 

anszver, then limply), \\niy — you you haven't any 

brother. 

Miss R. (gaspingly). Can-you-beat-it? 

Baldwin attempts to detain her but she evades him by 
slipping around the table. As they dodge back and forth 
HoRTENSE enters from R. and surz'eys their antics zvith 
surprise. 

HoRTENSE (after a moment's survey). I say, Baldwin. 

Baldwin (pausing suddenly — abashed, turns to Hor- 
tense). Eh? (Miss R., zvith an amused smile, glances 
from one to other.) 

Hortense. \Miat kind of a game do you call that? 

Baldwin (confusedly). \Miy — why, she has something 
I — I want. 

Hortense (sternly, to Miss R.). Miss Rembrandt, have 
you anything belonging to my brother? (Baldwin giggles.) 

Miss R. (astounded). Me? Well, I should say not. 
(Confusedly.) He — he was trying to kiss me. 

Hortense (indifferently). Oh, is that all? Why so 



ALL ON ACCOUNT OF POLLY. 23 

fussy about a little thing like that. (Baldwin and Miss R. 
fuake comedy grimaces.) Now, Miss Rembrandt, please 
don't keep me waiting. (Sits at table. To Baldwin.) And. 
Baldwin, don't let us detain you. Miss Rembrandt will be 
engaged with me for a half hour. After that — (carelessly 
waves a hand.) After that, her time is her own again. 

BALD^^'IX (airily). Thank you, sis. You're a good fel- 
low. (Yazvns.) But I believe I'll be getting along. Ta-ta. 
(To C. D., turns as a sudden thought strikes him.) Oh. 
I say, sis. Have you any money littering up your bag that 
you want to get rid of to make room for other more neces- 
sary articles? 

MoRTENSE (icitJi finiier tips in ivater, surprised) . \Miat? 

Baldwin. You know — any old money — not particular 
how soiled, lop-sided or dilapidated it is — I'll take it out 
for an airing. (Miss R. stares in dumbfounded amarjement 
at him.) 

TioRTENSE (gasping in comic dismay). Y'ou — you ask 
me for money? Heavens! (Throws up both hands in Jwly 
horror at the thought, and showering Miss R. zcith water, 
who grabs towel and hastily zvipes her face.) Baldy, what 
an idea. Why don't you ask mother? 

Baldwin (dryly). Hum! You know, I never thought of 
that. (Briskly.) Well, there's no use of me choking up 
this particular atmosphere. So long. (To Miss R.. in 
playful, tragic manner.) As for you, you little rascal, I'll 
'get you yet. (Exits C. D.) 

HoRTENSE. Y^ou mustu't mind him. 

Miss R. (significantly) . Oh, I don't. (Curiously.) But 
I don't understand — ////// in need of money? (Begins work 
on Hortense's fingers.) 

HoRTENSE. Say girlie, what you don't know will never 
harm you. 

Miss R. (impressiz'ely). Say. ain't that the terrible 
truth. 

Harkins appears in C. D., follozced by Miss Bushnell. 

Harkins (to Miss B.). Miss Geraldine will see you here 
this morning, miss. (Crosses to R. and e.vits. Miss B. 



24 ALL OX ACCOUXT OF POLLY. 

comes dozvu to table, nods Jiaughtily to Miss R., who ac- 
kiiozvledges it by a pert toss of her head and then resumes 
her zvork.) 

Miss B. (to Hortense. cheerfully and drazving off her 
gloves). Good morning, Miss Beverly. 

Hortense {languidly and raising her eyes). Oh, hello. 
{Opens a magazine zvith one hand and becomes immersed 
in reading.) 

Miss B. {removes hat, aside). I seem to be as welcome 
as a snow storm at a Fourth of July celebration. { Tosses 
her hat on a convenient chair.) 

Enter Geradine from R. She carries a brush and comb. 

Geraldine {to Miss B.). The maid is cleaning upstairs, 
so I thought we could get on better down here. You don't 
mind, do you? {Yazvns and sinks lazily into a chair.) 

Miss B. {zvith a meaning glance at Hortense and Miss 
R.). Oh, no. I like to work in a congenial atmosphere. 
{Places a small table in front of Geraldine, gets chair 
for herself and sits. Proceeds to take Geraldine's hair 
dozvn and brush it. Both girls apply themselz'es busily to 
their beauty labors for several moments.) 

Geraldine {after the pause, languidly). I wonder what 
she's like? 

Hortense {after a pause, not raising eyes from maga- 
zine). Speaking to me? 

Geraldine. Yes. Not that I think you care. It merely 
makes conversation. 

Hortense {slight pause again). I don't know to whom 
you are referring. {Stifling a yazvn.) Besides, why con- 
versation ? 

Geraldine {zvith e.vaggerated politeness). Oh, I beg 
your pardon. 

Hortense (mimicing her). Oh, pray don't mention it. 

Geraldine (plaintively). Say, sis, have a heart. I 
couldn't get any satisfaction from mother, and now you 
refuse to satisfy my seething curiosity. 

Hortense (impatiently, slamming magazine on table). 
Will you please tell me just what you are talking about? 



ALL ON ACCOUNT OF POLLY. 25 

Geraldine [petulantly). Aw, be good. • Besides, you 
might surmise. I mean this Polly person. 

HoRTENSE. My dear sister, you should be more discreet 
than to discuss our family affairs before these — paid at- 
tendants. (The girls make ivry faces at this shot and 
avenge themselves by a violent slap of the hair brush and 
a vigorous dig of the nail file, forcing a cry of pain from 
HoRTENSE and Geraldine.) 

Geraldine. Aren't we having a lovely time? 

Harkins appears at C. D. 

Harkins (to Hortense). Mr. Hartleigh, Miss Hor- 
tense. (Hortense, startled, springs to her feet.) 

Geraldine (cuttingly). There's always somebody to 
jolt the joy out of life. 

Hortense (wildly). Why, I: — I can't see him now. Tell 
him to wait on the porch. 

Geraldine. Or in the garage. 

Harkins. Yes, miss. (Starts to exit.) 

Enter Peter. He carries hat, walking stick and large 
bouquet of flowers. Harkins takes his hat and stick and 
exits. 

Peter (advancing with comic, mincing steps, smiling in 
silly fashion). Ah, I beg your pardon; but I hope Fm not 
intruding — really I do. 

Geraldine (mischievously). Why, Peter, what lovely 
flowers. Thank you so much. (Reaches out a hand for 
them.) 

Peter (bewildered, hands her flozvers). You-re — you're 
quite welcome, Pm sure. (Geraldine takes flozvers and 
throzvs a triumphant glance at Hortense.) 

Hortense (to Peter, sternly). Peter Hartleigh! 

Peter (realizing his mistake, grabs bouquet from Ger- 
aldine). Yes, of course they are not for you. (Hands 
flowers to Hortense. Geraldine giggles. i\Iiss R. and 
Miss B. find difficulty in concealing their delight. ^ 

Hortense (tosses flozvers carelessly on table). All 
right, ]\Ir, Hartleigh. Now that you've delivered them to 



20 ALL ON ACCOUNT OF POLLY. 

the proper person, you may run along on your other 
errands. 

Peter. Oh, I say, now, that'-s rawther unkind, you know, 
I paid $4 for those flowers. Besides, I thought it would 
be a jolly fine morning for a walk. 

Geraldine. Bless your soul, Peter, how original you 
are. What's the matter with ride} (Peter fits monocle 
to an eye and stares in speechless astonisJnnent at Ger- 
aldine.) 

HoRTENSE (to Geraldine). Geraldine, mind your own 
affairs. (To Peter.) Can't you see that we are in no 
condition for receiving this morning? 

Peter (transferring his gaze from Geraldine to her). 
By Jove, I cawnt see why not. You're simply dazzling 

Geraldine (a^/f/^). Oh, shucks ! (Giggles.) 

Hortense (to Peter, mollified by Jii\s compliment). 
Now, Peter, be a good boy. Run along to the porch or 
some place and PU join you soon as ever I can. 

Peter (grudgingly). All right, sweetheart. But Pd 
much rawther stop here, don't you know. I just cawnt 
bear to be out of your sight. (Simpers at her. Geraldine 
and the other tzvo girls almost choke zvith suppressed mer- 
riment.) 

Hortense (zvith an angry glance at the girls). It's a 
good thing one can't be arrested for thinking. 

Geraldine (maliciously). Isn't it? (Glancing at Pe- 
ter.) There are some who'd be immune from arrest for- 
ever 

Harkins appears at C. D. 

Harkins (z'ery stiffly). A person to see Mr. or Mrs. 
Beverly. 

Hortense. Person? 

Harkins. Beg pardon, Miss Hortense. Young woman. 
Said she was expected. 

Geraldine. The Polly person. (To feet, excitedly.) 

Hortense. Good gracious! (Rising.) I suppose she 
must come in, Harkins. (Harkins bozvs and is about to 
exit but stops at a gesture from her.) Wait. You'd better 
notify my mother of the — this person's arrival. 



ALL ON ACCOUNT OF POLLY. 27 

Harkins. Yes, miss ; very good. (Bows, crosses to R. 
Olid exits.) 

HoRTENSE {qlancing helplessly from one to the otlwr), 
Gracious! rm\ip a tree. Mother must receive her. I 
wouldn't know what to say. 

Peter (admiringly, referring to Hortense). My word, 
doesn't she just know how to handle affairs, though? 

Geraldtne (drvly). In the meantime, sis, wouldn't you 
consider it quite proper to ask the— this person in? 

Hortense (shocked). I? I show her in— like a com- 
mon servant. Never! 

Peter. Nevah ! 

Harkins enters from R., crosses to C. D., turns to ad- 
dress Hortense. 

Harkins. Your mother will be down directly, miss. 

Harkins turns. in stately dignity to exit, when enters 
Polly. She carries a hathox and suitcase in one hand, 
a bundle and traveling bag in the other and a large package 
under each arm. SJie stares iu timid curiosity at the as- 
scmblai^e and then all about the room. Finally her glance 
travels^ slozvly to the impassive Harkins and she is azve- 
stricken. The others meanzvhile have been quite equally 
overcome zvith curiosity and have formed a line on either 
side of her, staring vacantly at her. Polly finally allows 
the parcels, suitcase and traveling bag to slip to the floor 
and extends her hand to Harkins. 

Polly (attempting to shake hands with Harkins). 
How do you do, sir. (Harkins draws back in outraged 
dignity.) Aren't you my guardian, Mr. Beverly? (Har- 
kins nearly explodes zvith suppressed emotion. Hortense 
drops limply into a convenient chair, Miss R. and Miss B 
turn their backs to conceal their merriment, Peter raises 
monocle to eye and stares in horrified astonishment at 
Polly, and Geraldine, nnable longer to smother her 
feelings, laughs explosively. Polly, glancing helplessly 
from one person to the other and almost on the verge of 



28 ALL ON ACCOUNT OF POLLY. 

tears). Per — perhaps I'm in the wrong house. I — I was 
told that this was_ where Mr. Beverly lived. 

Peter. My word! (to Hortense). Ls she — she a new 
maid ? 

Iiiifer Mrs. B. front R., takes in the situation at a glance, 
then crosses quickly to Polly. 

Mrs. B. {to Polly, coldly). I presume this is Miss Per- 
kins? 

Polly (hopefully). Yes, ma'am. And you — you are 
Mrs. Beverly? 

Mrs. B. Yes. 

Polly. Oh! (Fairly throzvs herself into Mrs. B.'s arnu 
and, sobbing, buries her head in her bosom.) 

Mrs. B. (the mother instinct breaking through her cold 
reserve, presses Polly to her and pats her tenderly on the 
shoulder). There, there, child; don't cry. (Kisses Polly 
ivarnily : then, as if ashamed of giving way, thrusts Polly 
from her and turns commandingly to give rapid-fire orders 
to the others.) I don't know what this house would come 
to if anything should happen to me. Morning, Peter. 
Harkins, pick up that — those parcels and take them up to 
the small hack room at the end of the north hallway. 
(Harkins hastily gathers up Polly's luggage and exits 
R.) As for you — (to Miss B. and Miss R.),if you have 
finished you may be excused. (They, glad to escape, hastily 
prcf^are for their departure.) And you, dear (to Polly), 
you sit down somewhere until Fve straightened out this 
domestic confusion. (Polly sits forlornly on edge of 
chair, gazing in awe around the apartment. Hortense is 
polishing her finger nails with handkerchief and Geraldine 
is admiring her newly dressed hair and taking in the scene 
out of the corner of her eye.) 

Peter (aside, referring to Mrs. B.). My word, what a 
wonderful woman ! 

Mrs. B. (to Hortense and Geraldine). Girls, Pm sur- 
prised and ashamed of you. Whatever possessed you to 
descend to the drawing-room in such attires? No excuses. 
I won't listen to them. (Miss R. and Miss B. are nozv 



ALL OX ACCOUXT OF POLLV. 29 

ready to depart. ) And to have your hair dressing and 
manicuring — (suddenly discovers Miss R. and Miss B. at 
C. D.. zvaiting expectantly.) Well, why don't you go? Are 
you waiting to be shown out ? 

Miss R. No, ma'am; waiting for money. 

Miss B. (easily). Yes, ma'am. 

Mrs. B. (aghast). What impudence! Money! How 
dare you ! 

Miss R. I know it's a lot of nerve to ask for what 
we've honestly earned, but — 

Miss B. But we can certainly use it without any in- 
convenience. 

Mrs. B. (with a contemptuous glance at each of them in 
turn, crosses to desk, takes bill from purse and hands it to 
Miss R. zvith a flourish). There. That is more than am- 
ple. Now you may go. 

Miss R. (takes bill, opens her bag, extracts change and 
hands it to Mrs. B. zcith an exaggerated imitation flour- 
ish). There. That is the exact change. Now we shall be 
amply delighted to go. (They bow zvith exaggerated cour- 
tesy and exeunt C. D.) 

Peter (awkzmrdly) . I'm — I'm afraid I'm rawther block- 
ing domestic progress, so I'm off. (Goes to Geraldine 
and Hortense, each in turn, and shakes them limply by 
the hand,. and then to Mrs. B. As he passes Polly he 
stops, adjusts his monocle and favors her zvith a curious 
scrutiny.) My word! (Passes to C. D., mincing steps, and 
exits.) 

Mrs. B. (zvith a sigh of relief). I'm glad he's gone. 
He gets on my nerves. (To Geraldine and Hortense.) 
Now you girls run up stairs and get into some presentable 
clothes. (They start to protest.) Not a word. Go! (The 
girls rise and zvalk haughtily to R. and exeunt.) 

.Polly (timidly). I'm — I'm afraid I should have let you 
know exactly the time I would arrive, but I didn't suppose 
it would make very much difference. 

Mrs. B. (quickly). Not at all, my dear. No need to 
apologize. Sorry, however, that your guardian is not here. 



30 ALL OX ACCOUXT OF POLLY. 

{Reflective pause.) I have it. You just sit here, dear, and 
I'll telephone him. I won't be a minute. {Quickly exits R.) 
Polly {glances sadly all about the room — pathetically). 
My new home. {Sighs heavily.) It's a grand place, but it'll 
never be a real home to me. {Brightly.) Oh, what am I 
saying! {Briskly to feet.) This isn't the spirit to battle 
new conditions with. {Changes again to doubtful manner, 
glancing all about the room.) But those people! {Laughs.) 
My, aren't they just too funny. {Imitates Peter zvith 
monocle.) My word ! 

Enter Marie, L., stops abruptly in surprise as she dis- 
covers Polly. 

Marie. I beg your pardon miss. 

Polly {startled). Oh! {Gives Marie an appraising 
look, then smiles szveetly.) How do you do? 

Marie {smiling in turn). You're Miss Perkins, miss? 
(Polly nods.) And did they leave you all alone? (Polly 
again nods and smiles.) Well, well, well. {Comes to Polly, 
ivarmly.) You mustn't mind them, miss. {Glances cautiously 
about.) They're a queer lot. Let me take your hat. {Re- 
moves Polly's hat.) You mustn't mind what I say; I'm 
a privileged character in this house. My name is — that is, 
my real name is Mary O'Brien, but they made me change 
it to Marie. {Cautiously.) Sh ! I'm a French maid now. 
ye know. 

Polly {laughingly). I understand, Marie. Your secret 
shall be safe with me. 

Marie {admiringly). My, and ain't ye the sweet young 
thing! {Suddenly.) Say, you don't spake French, do ye? 

Polly. Only a few words. Why? 

Marie. Then fer the love of Ireland keep them few 
to yerself or I'll never know what yer driving at. Not that 
it makes any difference. I'll kape my job anyhow. The 
only reason I've kept it as long as I have is because I'm 
Irish. 

Polly {curiously). What has that to do with the hold- 
ing of your position? 

Marie. Faith, they're afraid to discharge me. (Polly 



i 



ALL ON ACCOUNT OF POLLY. 31 

laughs. Marie throws a quick glance about room.) Sh ! 
Don't think I'm a bold or designing creature, but I like ye, 
and the talk I'm making now is fer yer own good. This 
is a queer lot yer going to mix with, and the sooner ye 
find it out the better. They're a bunch of snobs. 

Polly {doubtfully). Snobs? 

Marie. Sure. Snobs is what I said. 

Polly {brightly). Oh, I know — 

Marie {interrupting). No, ye don't. If ye did, ye 
wouldn't be here. 

Harkins enters from R., crosses majestically to C. D. 
and exits. 

Polly. Who— who is that gentleman? 

Marie {puzzled). Gentleman? {Laughs as it dawns 
on her.) That's Harkins, the butler. 
. Polly {sheepishly). Oh, he's a servant. 

Marie. Yes. He's the other servant that predominates 
in the front of the house with meself, but I'm thinking 
that each day will be me last. 

Polly {laughingly). It'll be your own fault. Remem- 
ber, you are Irish. . ^ 

Marie {laughs.) Sure, I'm forgettin'. I'm lolly-gaggm 
here with ye, and I should be takin ye to yer room and 
makin' ye wan of us, only far be it from me to wish any- 
thin' that bad on ye. 

Polly {szveetly severe). Marie, you mustn't. They 
aren't as bad as you paint them, I'm sure. 

Marie {sniffs). It's little ye know what's before ye. 
Faith, they're only half human, with the exception of 
Master Baldwin, and he's the biggest scamp unhung. 

Polly [laughingly and chidingly). Now, now. Mane, 
you musn't ; and I won't listen to any more. 

Marie. Faith, I don't mean he's a villain like m the 
movies. He's only spoiled. But at i\\2ii— {shakes her head 
disparagiui^lv) ye know, he's the only son— handsome, 
and— well,' the way he can get rid of money. (Throzvs up 
both hands in horror.) His first name is Baldwin and his 
middle name is Broke. And— but what's the use. He 



Z2 ALL ON ACCOUNT OF POLLY. 

won't listen to ye, for he's the sort of young man who has 
liis pedigree catalogued. Ye'll know all about him the first 
time he glimpses yer purty face. And them two girls! 
Did ye see them wid their maids of beauty a-dollin' em up? 
{Shrugs in despair^) 

Polly {thoughtfully) . Baldwin! I like the name — Bald- 
win ! 

Enter Baldwin. C. D. He comes in zvith a rush but 
stops abruptly as he hears his name mentioned. Looks 
inquiringly from Polly to Marie. Marie discovers him 
on the instant and signals Polly in pantomime of his 
presence. Polly turns slowly and faces Baldwin. 

Baldwin {to Marie). Well? 

Marie {nervously). Yes, sir. This — this is the new — 
the new — faith, she's Polly — beg pardon, sir; Miss Polly 
Perkins. 

Baldwin {casts a quick, appraising glance at Poll^', 
smiles and extends his hand cordially). And I am Baldwin 
Beverly. Welcome. {Warmly clasps Polly's hand. Marie 
shrugs.) 

Polly. Thank you, Mr. Beverly. {Her eyes drop be- 
fore his ardent ga::.e and she bashfully draius away from 
him.) 

Baldwin (looks about, apparently in search of the other 
members of the family). Where are — say, where is every- 
body? [To Marie.) Where's mother. Marie? 

Polly {breaking in). She is telephoning your father of 
my arrival. 

Baldwin {still puzzled). But the girls, Marie? What? 

AL\RiE {helplessly) . Faith, the Lord in Heaven only 
knows. 

Baldwin {to Marie, briskly). Well, you trot along. Til 
take care of Miss Perkins. 

Marie {at R., near exit). Yes, sir. {Aside.) Well, any- 
how, I warned her. {Dubiously shakes head and exits R.) 

Baldwin {glances about to make sure they are alone. 
Places a chair for Polly at C.) Now then — {briskly) while 
mother is on her merry way, sit down and tell me all about 



ALL ON ACCOUNT OF POLLY. 33 

yourself. (Polly hesitates and tlien sits as directed. He 
4loes on briskly and cheerfully.) Your name is Polly Per- 
kins. Y'ou're right off a farm ; young and very pretty ; you 
need protection. (She attempts to rise, but he places his 
hands on her shoidders and gently forces her back.) You 
have some money- — which is an excellent alibi in time of 
need — and somebody, evidently not knowing my father, ap- 
pointed him your guardian and general superintendent of 
your money. Then you packed your trunk — 

Polly {interrupting). No trunk. Suitcase, bag and — 

Baldwin {breaking in). Never mind. There's been 
many a country girl who came to the big city without a 
trunk and still made her fortune. {Speaking briskly and 
forcibly, both hands on the back of her chair.) But here's 
the puzzhng thing. Think of the size of this great big 
world, Polly, and wonder that you should find your way to 
this identical little spot, right here. Then, again, think of 
the millions and millions of people in this great big world 
and wonder that I should be the one to meet you face to 
face, right here, in this same little spot. Think ! Isn't that 
the most wonderful thing you've ever heard of? {She 
turns and looks up into his face, in uneasy agitation, and 
attempts to rise. He smiles and again forces her to sit.) 
Now don't be frightened. What's a little conversation be- 
tween friends ? I rea;lize that you're not doing much of the 
talking — merely telling me all about yourself, but go on — 
I'm a good listener. Of course I can readily understand 
that it would be an easy matter for me to meet an ugly 
girl. I meet that kind every day. But what I can't under- 
stand is, why I suddenly have become the luckiest chap 
in all the world by meeting the prettiest girl in all the world. 

Polly {unable to restrain herself longer, springs to her 
feet and confronts Baldwin with sweet dignity). Mr. Bev- 
erly, please ! 

Baldwin (soothingly). There, there. Now you mustn't 
get peevish. Why, there's no cause for peevishness. All 
I want is one sweet little kiss from you. 

Polly (shrinking azvay from him, horrified). You — 
you — want what ^ 



34 ALL ON ACCOUNT OF POLLY. 

Baldwin. Oh, I say, now ; cut out the tragic air. What's 
a Httle kiss — between friends ? {She looks wildly about asm. 
he slozvlv aproaches her with insimiating smile. He seizes 
her by the zvrist and is just about to kiss her, zvhen) — 

Enter Marie from R. 

Marie (loudly). Master Baldwin, yer mother says Miss 
Polly is to come up stairs. (Baldwin releases Polly, faces 
Marie and gives her a heavy scowl. Polly, zvith a glad 
cry of relief, runs to Marie, turns, looks scornfully at 
Baldwin and exits zmth Marie^s arm protectingly about 
her. Baldwin gases after them a moment, laughs care- 
lessly, then his manner changes to a thoughtful one. He 
strokes his chin in a meditatiz'e zvay.) 

. Baldwin. Shucks ! Love-making is fast becoming a 
lost art with me. That's two kisses Pve lost within the 

hour. ^ ^ 

Quick Curtain. 



Act II, 



Scene: Same as Act I. One week later. Late after- 
noon. 

At rise Geraldine is discovered curled up on sofa, 
reading a novel. Hortense is at piano, playing and singing 
a rag time song in exaggerated manner. Her music serz'cs 
as curtain rises. Both are attired in simple afternoon 
frocks. 

Geraldine (as the curtain is zvell up, throzcs book dozun, 
rises to a sitting posture and cries). Hortense! Hortense! 

Hortense. Well ? 

Geraldine. ■ For the love of Romeo, have a heart. T 
can't read. That's terrible ! 

Hortense (injured tone). There you go. Every time 
I try to practice, you want me to stop. 

Geraldine. Say, I wouldn't mind it so much if your 
music *'fit" the scenes in my story. But it never does. 
^^^hile you're sawing ofif that ragtime, the characters in. 



ALL ON ACCOUNT OF POLLY. 35 

my book are face to face with death. And when they are 
fox-trotting in chapter nine they've got to keep step to 
your awful conception of "The Maiden's Prayer"' or "Hearts 
and Flowers." 

HoRTENSE. You scem to forget that I went way to 
Paris for that music. 

Geraldine [inalicioitsly). If you did, you forgot to 
bring it back. The nearest ten-cent store is as far as you 
ever went for music. 

Hortense (aside). Jealous person ! 

Geraldine (suddenly rising}. Say, sis, what do you 
make of this Polly person? 

Hortense (rising from stool and leaning thoughtfully 
against front of piano). I haven't quite "made" her yet, 
but Pm inclined to think she has designs on Baldwin. 

Geraldine (surprised). Good Lord! (Laughs.) On 
his money, T suppose. No, you're wrong. Why, they don't 
even speak. 

Hortense. There is something the matter with him. 

Geraldine (dryly). There always was. 

Hortense. She's trying to reform the family. 

Geraldine. Designing creature. 

Hortense (thoughtfidly) . Hum! 

Geraldine (frozvns in perplexity). Hum! 

Hortense. Well, she can't reform me. 

Geraldine (dryly). Pm quite sure of that. 

Harkins enters from R. 

Harkins. Beg pardon. Your mother wishes me to in- 
form you that Mrs. Feather-Stone and Mrs. Chadfield have 
phoned to say they will call this afternoon. (Bozus, crosses 
to C. D. and exits.) 

Hortense. Huh ! Wonder what they want ? 

Geraldine. It's easier to imagine what they don't want. 

Enter Baldwin, L. He is attired in conventional after- 
noon dress and carries hat, zvalking stick and light-colored 
gloves. The girls are just about to exeunt R. zvhen he dis- 
covers them. 



36 ALL ON ACCOUNT OF POLLY. 

Baldwin. I say, girls. {They turn, he throws a search- 
ing glance about the apartment, shozving signs of disap- 
pointment at not discovering Polly.) Have you — have you 
seen Polly? {Both girls laugh teasingly.) 

HoRTENSE {teasingly) . Poor little brother. He's lost his 
Polly. 

Geraldine. Say, Baldy, what's the use? She^ wouldn't 
speak to you anyway. 

Baldwin {pleadingly). Now girls, behave! She's not my 
Polly, and it's nothing to you whether she'd speak to me 
or not. {Gloomily.) It would serve me right if she never 
did. Pve been a cad. 

HoRTENSE. What's there coming to me if Fll tell you 
where you can find her? 

Baldwin {eagerly). Gloves or candy? 

HoRTENSE. Both. 

Baldwin. You're on. 

Geraldine {zvifh mock severity, to Hortense). You 
ought to be ashamed of yourself. 

Hortense. Why ? 

Geraldine. You could have gotten more. {Laughs.) 

Baldwin {to Hortense). Come on — where is she? 

Hortense. On the water front — poor quarter of the 
town — angel of mercy stunt — run along. 

Baldwin dashes madly to C. D. and exits. 

Geraldine {callhig after him). Size five and a half and 
at least five pounds. Don't forget. {To Hortense.) Pm 
declaring myself in on part of the five pounds. 

Hortense. \\' elcome. More mystery. What's he want 
with her? 

Geraldine. Don't know ; but I never saw him so com- 
pletely in earnest before. 

Enter MviS. B. from R., much excited. She is attired in 
a handsome afternoon gozvn. 

Mrs. B. {zvrings hands). Oh, girls, girls — it's coming — 
it's coming. 

Hortense {thinking she's referring to the coming of the 
tzvo ladies). So you sent word, mother. 



ALL ON ACCOUNT OF POLLY. 37 

Geraldine. But why "it's?" Why not "them" or "those?" 

Mrs. B. {paces R. to L.). You don't — you can't seem 
to understand. Things at your father's office are in- des- 
perate shape. The crash he so long- has feared has come. 

HoRTENSE (carelessly). Oh. is tJiaf all? I thought you 
were talking about Mrs. Feather-Stone and Mrs. Chad- 
field. 

Mrs. B. (shocked). Hortense! 

Geraldine. Well, either are bad enough, goodness 
knows. 

Mrs. B. Oh, you poor darlings. You don't realize what 
you are saying — what it means to you — to us all. (Sob- 
bingly.) We — we shall have to give up our house and — 
and move into a Harlem flat — not an apartment, a flat. 
Do you hear? A flat in Harlem. 

Geraldine. Well, it could be worse. Brooklyn, for 
instance. 

Hortense (witheringly) . Don't mind her, mother. 

Geraldine. Besides, it's a grand little excuse to get 
rid of Harkins. I never did like him. 

Mrs. B. If that is intended for consolation, it fails of 
its purpose. What am I to do without servants? And 
you — you poor, innocent darlings — what will become of 
you? 

Geraldine. We'll have a janitor, won't we? (Mrs. B. 
throws lip her hands in despair.) Maybe we can train him 
to be kind and gentle. 

Hortense (witheringly). She's hopeless, mother. Leave 
her out of it and tell me all your troubles. 

Mrs. B. Hortense, that's' the first bit of real sympathy 
I've ever known you to display. Come up to my room — 
it's a long story. Besides (sighs), I suppose we must keep 
up appearances as long as we can, and you must change 
for the coming of those two human wireless stations. 
(Crosses to R., followed by Hortense. and they exeunt.) 

Geraldine. Guess I'll tag along. I'll climb into an- 
other gown while the climbing is good. (At door R.) 
Harlem! I wonder what they wear in Harlem? And if so, 
whv? (Exits R.) 



38 ALL ON ACCOUNT OF POLLY. 

Polly {ojf R. of C. D.). Never mind, Mr. Harkins ; 
we'll get along just fine. 

Enter Polly, Tommy and Pudgy, C. D. Polly is he- 
tzveen the children, holding each by a hand. The children 
feast their eyes on the magnificence they nozv encounter 
for the first iitne. Their clothing is ragged and their faces 
and hands very dirty. Polly is fairly bubbling over zvith 
animation. 

Polly (taking off Tommy's cap). That's a nice little 
man. Always remove your cap when you enter a room. 
(Pudgy fakes off her hat. Polly laughs.) No, no. Pudgy; 
not the ladies ; just the gentlemen. But L'll take it. (Puts 
the children's hats on a table and then stares at them in 
apparent dismay and doubt.) Something's got to be done 
to remove at least a portion of that dirt. 

Tommy (looking wildly around). I — I want to go home. 

Pudgy (clutching his sleeve). Tommy, you be good. It 
ain't a-goin' to hurt none. (Polly laughs merrily, while 
Tommy struggles to escape Pudgy's clutch.) 

Enter Marie from door L., recoils in astouislnucnt as 
she sees the children. 

Polly (discovering Makie. cliccrily). Bless your heart. 
You're always happening in just at the psychological mo- 
ment. Come here, you darling. 

Marie (staring down at the children, zvith'arms akimbo). 
And where did you find 'em, and after that, what are they? 

Polly. Now, Marie, what do they look like? This is 
Tommy (pats his head), and this is Pudgy (kisses her). 
Children, this is Marie. (They bozv azvkzvardly.) Now 
that proper introductions have been exchanged, we may 
all feel more at home. 

Marie. Ye've been down at the water-front agin, haven't 
ye? 

Polly. You dear ; how did you guess it ? But you re- 
mind me. Water! That's what I want, and plenty of it. 
(Tommy again looks longingly at door.) Then T'll show 
you some real budding seeds once we get under that rich 
soil. (Bustles about, removing hat and gloves.) 



ALL ON ACCOUNT OF POLLY. 39 

Marie ( aghast). Sure, miss, 'tis the bathroom ye should 
lead 'em to, where there's oodles of water. 

Polly. Marie, you obey orders. I am going to commit 
the crime in this very room. It's not any worse for me 
to wash children here than for those two girls to have their 
beauty work done here, is it? Now, go! That's a dear. 
(Shores Marie tozvard door L.) Nice warm water, soap 
and towels, and hurry. (Marie, protesting, exits L. Polly 
sits Tommy and Pudgy beside each other on the sofa and 
then kneels on floor in front of them. Admiringly.) Oh, 
you darlings! I love you, dirt and all. (Smothers Pudgy 
in her arms and kisses her several times.) 

Enter Baldwin, C. D., hastily, but draz^'s back in sur- 
prise as his eyes light on the scene before him, and he 
partially conceals himself back of curtains. 

Tommy (timidly). Say, lady. 

Polly. Yes, dearie. 

Tommy. Why don't you kiss me? (Baldwin stares.) 

Polly (laughingly) . Why, Tommy, dear, it isn't proper 
for young women to kiss young men — unless they are en- 
gaged to each other. (Baldw^in z^'inces.) 

Tommy. Oh! 

Pudgy (to Tommy). And you ain't engaged to her. 

Tommy. No, but I'd like to be. She's a corker! (Polly 
laughs and Baldwin pantomimes his keen approval of 
Tom my's judgment. ) 

Polly (to Tomimy). Now for that nice compliment I'm 
going to break the bonds of propriety and give you just 
one kiss. There. (Kisses Tom:\iy on cheek. Baldwin 
pantomimes jealousy. Tommy rubs spot on his check.) 
Why, Tommy, are you rubbing my kiss off? 

Tommy. No, lady — rubbing it in. (Polly laughs and 
again Baldwin pantomimes his approz'al.) 

Marie enters L., zcitJi soap, zvater. tozccls, basin and f^ail 
of zvater. 

Marie. Whew! Here ye are, miss. (Places things on 
a table.) But I'm thinking one application won't be enough. 



40 ALL ON ACCOUNT OF POLLY. 

(Tommy casts an anxious glance at the soap and water 
and then at the door.) 

Polly {rolling up sleeves and surveying children dubi- 
ously). Maybe you're right, Marie; but we'll try. (To 
Tommy.) I guess, Tommy, you come first. (Tommy digs 
his fingers in his eyes and zvhimpers.) Why, the idea. 
You're not going to be a coward, are you? 

Pudgy. Gee, lady, he ain't no regidar coward. Soap 
and water's 'bout the only thing he's sheered of. (Bald- 
win's shoulders shake zvith suppressed laughter and Marie 
laughs heartily.) 

Polly (soothingly, to Tommy). Well, Tommy,, you just 
show us now that you can be a hero, even when facing this. 
(Indiates soap and water.) Now, Marie, we're quite ready. 
(Tommy manfully pulls himself together for the coming 
ordeal, Marie prepares basin of zvater and soap. Polly 
makes onslaught on Tommy^s face.) 

Marie (delightedly). Faith, I can see myself looking 
fer a new job. The -missus will be after throwing a fit, 
and she won't be particular where she throws it, either, 
even if it's on the best rug in the room. 

Polly (to the struggling Tommy). Hold still, Tommy — 
please. (She struggles zvith him. Baldwin, unable to lon- 
ger control himself, tosses his hat and stick on a chair and 
comes briskly dozvn to the scene of action, not stopping to 
remove his light-colored gloves.) 

Baldwin (grasping the struggling Tommy — laughingly). 
Here, you, be good ! 

Polly (aghast). Mr. Beverly! 

Marie (startled). Master Baldwin! 

Baldwin (laughs cheerily). Don't mind me. Say, I've 
just got to be declared in on this. (The children stare at 
him in open-mouthed astonishment.) 

Polly (to Baldwin, coldly). We were doing very nicely 
without you. Besides (glances helplessly about), I said 
Pd never speak to you again. 

Baldwin (coaxingly). Oh, come now, Polly — be a good 
fellow. I won't spoil your party. (To Tommy.) Hold 



ALL ON ACCOUXT OF POLLY. 41 

quiet; nobody's going to hurt you. (To Polly, plead- 
ingly.) Please, Polly; mayn't I help? 

Polly (hesitates, then smilingly). Yes — you may. 
(Baldwin holds Tommy, Marie holds the various bathing 
utensils and Polly briskly and thoroughly cleanses Tommy's 
face and hands. By the time the operation is completed, 
Baldwin's light gloves are soaked and much soiled. Polly, 
as she gives Tommy's face a final rub zvith towel, looks 
aghast at Baldwin's gloves and points a finger at them 
in comic dismay. He follozvs the direction of her glance, 
holds up his hands in viezv of the audience and then laughs 
good nature dly.) 

Polly. Gracious! Hadn't you better take off your 
gloves ? 

Baldwin {lugubriously). Isn't it rather late? {Laughs 
and removes gloves, throzving them carelessly into the basin 
of zvater.) 

Polly (standing back and appraising Tommy). My, 
what a dear, sweet boy you are. Now you're not dirty, 
are you? 

Tommy (shakes head dolefully). Not dirty — hungry! 

Polly and Baldwin (in chorus). Hungry? (Tommy 
places a hand on his stomach and nods.) 

Marie. Hungry ? Bless my soul ! 

Baldwin. By Jove, I really believe he is. (At a loss 
to knozv just zvhat to do.) 

Polly (faking command. To Marie.) Marie, you've 
been an angel in disguise thus far ; now do it some more. 
Go and get something to eat for these poor little darlings. 

Marie (hesitates) . I could take 'em down with me — 

Baldwin (interrupting). Move fast, Marie. You have 
your orders. (Takes basin and things out of Marie's 
hands.) We will finish the — the renovating. Move along. 
(Marie smiles and hastily exits L. He bozvs loz<.' to Polly, 
extending basin of zvater.) At your service, Miss Polly. 

Polly (smiles her approval at his conduct. To Pudgy.) 
Now, dearie. (Pudgy gives Tommy a look as if to say, 
"Til shozv you hozv it is done," and marches braz'clv to Polly 



42 ALL ON ACCOUNT OF POLLY. 

7vith uplifted face. Polly discovers Baldwin's gloves in 
basin, picks them out, wrings out the water and lays them 
on table. Baldwin laughs happily. She busies herself in 
the cleansing of Pudgy. Baldwin laughs.) Well, what's 
funny ? 

Baldw^in. I was just wondering what mother and the 
girls would say if they were to pop in here now. 

Polly (startled). Gracious! I never once thought of 
them. 

Baldwin (zvith mock severity). You know, you've no 
right to^pull anything like this in the very best room in 
the house. 

Polly (zveakly). I — I know, but — 

Baldwin (laughs). Say, you go just as far as you like. 
If they start anything, Fm with you to the finish. (Polly 
smiles and continues zvork on Pudgy.) 

Polly. Hadn't I better get them out of here? 

Baldwin. Not on your life. (Grins delightedly.) 

Polly. How about you? 

Baldwin. I? Say, Fm having the time of my life. 
Have some more water? (Thrusts basin at her.) 

Polly. No, thanks. I guess she'll do now. (Casts a 
critical survey over the children.) Oh, dear me. I wish I 
had some clean clothes to slip on them. 

Baldwin (zvith a sudden inspiration). Say, leave that 
part to me. I know where they sell 'em. 

Polly (impulsively). You darling! (Recoils abashed as 
she realizes zvhat she has said.) 

Baldwin (delightedly). Too late — you said it. 

Polly (nervously). I — I never meant to. 

Baldwin. Don't be frightened. A week ago I should 
have tried to take advantage of your mistake ; but now — 
(close to her zvith basin of zvater, touching her) now I'll 
be decent. 

Polly (drazving azvay from basin). You'd better; you'll 
spill the water if you don't. (He places basin on table.) 
Besides, we're shamefully neglecting the children — 

Baldwin. Certainly. How dare you neglect the chil- 
dren! (Pats them tenderly.) 



ALL ON ACCOUNT OF POLLY. 43 

Marie enters from L., bearing tray containing cookies, 
candies, cake, etc. Sets tray on table at L. 

Polly (gaily). Here we are. First call for luncheon. 
(Baldwin and Polly gaily place the children at table and 
then seat themselves. Marie prepares to serve them, smil- 
ing broadly at the idea.) 

Baldwin {thrusting plate of cookies at the children and 
Polly). This is jolly — a regular picnic. {She smiles, he 
stuffs a cookie in his mouth.) 

]\Iarie. It's not for the likes of me to call yer atten- 
tion to the clouds in the sky, but Vm thinkin' it's goin' to 
rain and spoil yer picnic. 

Polly. Eh? 

Marie. There do be callers comin' — Mrs. Feather-Stone 
and Mrs. Chadfield. They'll be wantin' their party. (Polly 
casts a startled glance about the room.) 

Balwin. Shucks! {Gesturing lightly zvitli a handful 
of dainties). Away with care. Let joy and mirth be un- 
confined. They may have their party ; we shall have ours. 
But I say, Polly, where did you meet our ''guests?" {In- 
dicating the children.) 

Polly. Down at the water-front. The mother is hard 
working and deserving; the father — ugh! {Hopeless ges- 
ture.) Vm trying to straighten out their afifairs. 

Baldwin {admiringly). Bully! I feel something tugging 
in me to lend a hand, too. 

Harkins appears at C. D. 

Harkins. Mrs. Herbert Feather-Stone, Mrs. Clarence 
Chadfield, Mr. Peter Hartleigh. 

General consternation. Harkins ushers in the announced 
callers, bozvs ceremoniously, looks in horrified amazement 
at the group at table, crosses to R. and exits. Baldwin 
and Folly rise and the nezvcomers stare dumbfounded at 
the. strange scene. 

Marie {aside). The rain has come — picnic postponed. 

Baldwin {advancing to greet the visitors). How do you 
do, Mrs. Feather-Stone, Mrs. Chadfield— Peter, how are 



44 ALL ON ACCOUNT OF POLLY. 

you? {The women, zvith lorgnettes to eyes, stare at Polly 
and the children, ignoring Baldwin. Peter fixes monocle 
to eye and stands transfixed with curiosity. Polly and the 
children fidget- uneasily under the strain. Marie turns her 
back to conceal her broad grin.) 

Peter {finally). My word! 

Baldwin. Good! {Seizes Peter's Jiaiid and sJiakes it 
vigorously). Fine, Peter. I thought you never would 
come to. 

Mrs. F. {to Baldwin {haughtily). I trust we are not 
intruding. 

Baldwin {heartily). Certainly not. 'Won't you join our 
little party? {Waves a hand.) Quite informal, I assure 
you. And the cookies are delicious. (Mrs. F. is horrified.) 

Mrs. C. {aghast). The very idea! (Baldwin shrugs.) 

Mrs. F. {to Baldwin). Your mother — she is expect- 
ing us? 

Baldwin. Surely. Harkins is on his merry way to 
announce your arrival. Leave it to Harkins. That's the 
best thing he does. 

Mrs. C. (^0 Mrs. F.). How unfortunate ! Let us remain 
over here until Mrs. Beverly is informed of our arrival. 

Mrs. F. Evidently some one has made a mistake. {They 
withdraiv to extreme R. and sit, staring superciliously at 
the group at L.) 

Baldwin {laughs easily. To Peter). Peter, you're 
wretched company. {Slaps him violently on the back. 
Peter zvinces from the blow.) Come over here and join 
our party. {Takes him by an arm and pulls him to the- 
cJiUdren's table.) I want you to meet some real good friends 
of mine. Pudgy, this is Mr. Hartleigh, but call him Peter- 
He won't mind. (Pudgy slides off her chair and bows 
awkzvardly.) Tommy, shake hands with Peter. He's a 
queer looking animal, Tommy, but he won't bite. (To:mimy 
slides front his chair and timidly extends a hand. Peter is 
still in a trance-like condition and Baldwin grasps his hand 
and gives it to Tommy, then slaps him on back.) That's 
a good fellow, Peter. Fine ! You've met Miss Perkins — 
also Marie. Now sit down. The luncheon is perfect. 



ALL ON ACCOUNT OF POLLY. 45 

Peter {stniggling to gain control oi'cv his benumbed 
condition). My word! I cawn't quite gather the drift of 
this, don't you know. {He is about to sink into chair at 
table, when) — 

Mrs. C. (sharply). Mr. Hartleigh ! 

Peter (straightens up quickly). Yes, Mrs. Chadfield. 

Mrs. C. Have you quite forgotten yourself? 

Peter (in comic confusion). Yes, ma'am — I — I cawn't 
even remember my own name. 

Mrs. F. (to Peter). Your conduct is quite impossible. 

Mrs. C. You should be gentleman enough to remember 
that we are under your protection. 

Mrs. F. And not desert us entirely. (Peter, now more 
confused than ever, starts to cross to them, but Baldwin 
slyly grabs his coattails and pulls him back into his chair.) 

Baldwin (to the visitors, courteously). Ladies, you 
must forgive Peter. He's hardly himself today. (Peter 
is a picture of misery. Baldwin zvinks slyly at Polly.) 

Polly (anxiously, aside to Baldwin). I'm afraid you're 
carrying the joke too far. 

Baldwin (aside, to Polly). Hush! The real fun hasn't 
begun. Wait till mother arrives. (Polly gizrs a nervous 
start.) 

Mrs. C. (to Mrs. F.). I really believe these persons are 
talking about us. 

Mrs. F. (peering at the opposite i!;roup through lorgnette 
— aside). Ugh! \\'hat common people! ^^l^ere can they 
have come from? 

Baldwin (to Peter, shoving a plate of cookies under 
his nose). Do have some more! 

Peter (shoving plate aivay). Confound it, Baldwin. I 
don't want any more. I haven't had jolly well any yet. 
(Miserably.) I — I want to go home. (He again attempts 
to rise, but Baldwin pulls him back into chair.) 

Marie (crosses to the ladies — respectfidly). Shall I 
take your things, ma'am? (The ladies fairly free::e Marie 
zvith a look and then frigidly turn their backs on her. 
Marie hesitates an instant, then returns to her former po- 
sition at L., calm and unruffled.) 



46 ALL ON ACCOUNT OF POLLY. 

Polly (innocently, aside to Baldwin, indicating Mrs. 
F.). Is she one of 'the "400"? 
Baldwin (aside). No; one of the "57." 

Enter Harkins froin R. He stands aside to permit the 

■ entrance of Mrs. B. Hortense and Geraldine — Picture: 

General consternation, and all rise from their chairs and 

face the new arrivals, Baldwin stepping in front of Polly, 

protectingly. 

Mrs. B. (astounded, gamng from one party to the other). 
Will somebody please have the goodness to explain? (Har- 
kins exits CD.) 

Baldwin. It's all my fault, mother — 

Mrs. B. Silence! (to Mns. F. and Mrs. C). My dears, 
I can never forgive myself for allowing this unfortunate 
affair to happen in my house. Harkins has told me how 
you have been embarrassed — even insulted. (To Bald- 
win.) As for you, sir (to Peter), and you, Peter, I am 
utterly at a loss to — 

Polly (advances and confronts Mrs. B.). Mrs. Beverly, 
I alone am to blame — 

Mrs. B. (furiously interrupting). I shall be the judge 
of that, young woman. (To Marie.) You may consider 
yourself no longer in my household. Go! 

Marie. Yes, ma'am. I had a hunch it was coming, so 
you don't surprise me much. (Starts exit L.) 

Baldwin (to Marie). Wait, Marie. (Marie turns in- 
quiringly). Now, mother, listen. There's nobody going to 
"get in dutch" but me. I'm the chap. (Grasps Polly and 
gently shoves her back of him.) I'm the big cause of it 
all. I brought these children here myself. But there's no 
crime in that — far from it. Miss Perkins and Marie were 
kind enough to assist me to wash and feed 'em. In fact, I 
forced them to. (Winks slyly at Polly.) 

Marie (aside, admiringly). Ain't he the beautiful liar! 

Baldwin. As for Peter — well, can you imagine him do- 
ing anything wicked? (Y'kty.r winces.) 

Hortense (plaintively). And he vowed he'd be true to 
me — alone ! 



ALL ON ACCOUNT OF POLLY. 47 

Peter (ghmily). I wish I were home. 

Geraldine. Fudge! I wish I had somebody to scold. 

Mrs. B. (to Mrs. F. and Mrs. C). I ask your indulgence 
just for a moment longer, my dears. The room, and at- 
mosphere, shall be immediately cleared. (To Baldwin.) 
Since you have brought these ragamuffins here, you will be 
good enough to take them away again. 

Polly (forcing Baldwin aside and confronting Mrs. 
B.). Mrs. Beverly, I protest. He did not bring them here. 
(Baldwin attempts to stop her.) No, no; you shall not be 
blamed for my thoughtlessness. Madam, I apologize for 
bringing in these children. I assure you that I had no in- 
tention of causing you embarrassment. I was thinking 
only of giving these poor children a treat. They pleaded 
to see my home. Your son and Marie fell into the spirit 
of the thing, and — that's all. But if you had a real moth- 
er's heart beating in your breast, you'd think twice before 
you drove these innocent children out of your house and 
spoiled perhaps the few moments of genuine pleasure they 
ever have known. 

Baldwin (breaking in quickly). She won't get a chance 
to do that. (To Pudgy and Tommy.) Come, children; 
you're coming with your Uncle Dudley. He'll take you 
down to the big shop and have the man give you some regu- 
lar dress-up, Sunday-go-to-meeting clothes. Then maybe 
you'll be received in real society. (Meaning glance at the 
group R. He takes the children by the hand and leads them 
to C. D. Turns to Peter.) I say, Peter, want to come 
along ? 

Peter (astounded). I? My word ! 

Baldwin. Oh, come on. Buying clothes for little raga- 
muffins is the greatest little indoor sport in the world (To 
the children.) Tell me before you go. Who do you like? 

Pudgy (indicating Polly). I like that nice lady. 

Tommy. So do L 

Pudgy (indicating Marie). And I like her. She talks 
so funny. (To^imy nods his approval and both children 
scozvl at the group at R. Polly runs to the children and 



48 ALL ON ACCOUNT OF POLLY. 

smothers them each in turn icith caresses. Baldwin gets 
his hat.) 

Baldwin. Goodbye, folks. W'hen yoti see 'em again, 
they'll be so dressed up they won't speak to you. (Baldwin 
grins cheerfully, sets hat rakishly on one side of head, 
clasps the hands of the children and they exeunt, he jaun- 
tily and the children tvaving a hand at Polly and Marie.) 

Mrs. B. (to Polly). I shall take this matter up with 
your guardian. For the present, please retire to your own 
room. (Polly, crestfallen, crosses to R. Marie, in syrn- 
pathy, starts to follozv her, hut is stopped by a commanding 
gesture from Mrs. B.) Marie, go to your room. You shall 
hear from me later. (Marie hesitates, turns and crosses 
to L.) 

Polly (appealingly, to Mrs. B.). Please, Mrs. Beverly, 
do not punish Marie. She only obeyed orders. 

Mrs. B. Silence ! Your guardian shall be the judge of 
that. Go! (Polly exits R. and Marie L., the former 
sadly and the latter with a defiant toss of her head.) 

Peter {zviping face with handkerchief. To Mrs. B.) I 
don't want to say a word against Baldwin, but he really 
has a deucedly convincing way with him at times. (Mrs. 

B. favors him with a scornful look.) 

Mrs. C. (witheringly). So few men nowadays have any 
will of their own. 

Mrs. F. (to Mrs. B.). We should be going, my dear. 
I can see you are quite upset. 

Mrs. B. (hastily). No, no; you really mustn't think of 
going. Hortense has some new music. (The ladies wince. 
Geraldine smiles maliciously. Hortense crosses to Peter 
and they engage in pantomime conversation.) 

Mrs. C. Some other time, dear. 

Mrs. F. (quickly). Yes, we were just passing, you know. 
(Moves tozvard C. D.) In fact, we have another engage- 
ment. 

Mrs. C. (follozving). Yes, Pm afraid we will be late. 
(At C. D.) 

Mrs. F. Remember us to vour hus])and, dear. (At 

C. D.) 



ALL OX ACCOUNT OF POLLY. 49 

Mrs. B. (following tlicni, calling off R.). Harkins ! 
(Harkins appears. The t7vo woman shake hands with 
Mrs. B. and the usual farezvell salutations are exchanged. 
Harkins escorts the women off R. Mrs. B. calling off 
after them). Be sure to come again — soon, won't you? 

Geraldine {all through foregoing scene has had the 
time of her life). Mother, what was the use of asking 
them to come again. They won't. 

Mrs. B. (coldly). And why, pray? 

Geraldine. Can you dream of them calHng on us in 
our Harlem flat? 

Mrs. B. (is about to make a short retort, but discovers 
HoRTENSE and Peter, zcho are nozv close to each other, 
and as she looks they kiss each other). Well, young man, 
what have you to say in your defense? 

Peter (nervously drazving azvay from Hortense). I — 
I don't know what to say, ma'am. I don't seem to be able 
to talk. 

Hortense (defensively). Peter has explained his part 
in the affair to my entire satisfaction. 

Geraldine (dryly). His alibi is perfect. I could hear 
the report clear over here. 

Mrs. B. (grimly, to Peter). I am waiting, Mr. Hart- 
leigh. 

Peter (helplessly). Oh, Lord! (Looks appealingly at 
Hortense.) 

Geraldine. Well, Peter, if you'll take my advice, the 
best way to square accounts is to introduce Hortense and 
me to a rising young ice cream soda. (Peter picks up 
his hat, greatly relieved.) 

Mrs. B. (aghast). Geraldine! (Turns to exit R.) I give 
up. I wash my hands of you' Your father is quite right. 
You are thoroughly spoiled. (Exits R.) 

Peter (calling after Mrs. B.). By jove, there's one of 
the family jolly well not spoiled. (Kisses Hortense effu- 
sively.) My word, what a time! Come on, girls. You 
may have all the ice cream in the man's jolly shop. And if 
that isn't enough, Pll make the scoundrel send out for more. 

Geraldine. Peter, for the first time in many, many 



50 ALL OX ACCOUNT OF POLLY. 

years I have nothing to say. Your generosity overwhelms 
me. (Peter, between the girls, rushes them laughingly 
out CD.) 

As it is now late afternoon, all stage lights are slightly 
dimmed, whieh will also tend to create an impressive at- 
mosphere for the entrance of Beverly. 

Enter Beverly, C. D., followed by Harkins, who takes 
his hat. Beverly's apparel is in a somewhat disheveled 
condition and lie appears utterly dejected and physically 
weary. He zvalks unsteadily to a chair near C, sinks wear- 
ily into it, and with elbozvs on knees and head betzveen his 
hands, becomes absorbed in apparently gloomy thoughts. 
Harkins moves about the room, putting things in order 
and at intervals pauses and casts an anxious t^^lance at his 
master. 

Harkins (coughs discreetly). Is there anything I can 
get you, sir? 

Beverly (raising head, dazedly) . Eh? No, thank you, 
Harkins — nothing. (Relapses into his former attitude.) 

Harkins (sympathetically). I thought, perhaps, sir, 
you'd want a bit of Scotch, sir. 

Beverly (impatiently). No, no — nothing. (Raises head 
arid speaks more kindly.) Thanks for your thoughtfuhiess, 
Harkins, just the same. 

Harkins. Yes, sir; thank you, sir. (About to .retire, 
then turns). Shall I tell Mrs. Beverly youVe come in, sir? 

Beverly (after a thoughtful pause). No. (Harkins 
bozvs and starts. exit L.) Stop! (Harkins azvaits orders.) 
You may ask Miss Perkins to come here. Say it is im- 
portant — that's all. (Harkins bozvs, crosses to R. and 
exits. Beverly rises and paces to and fro several moments 
before speaking.) It's an utter rout. That Bates crowd 
was too strong for me. Confound 'em, I hope they're sat- 
isfied now! (Faces angrily.) They had dollars where I 
didn't have pennies. (Laughs grimly.) If I'd had dollar 
for dollar with them, Lord, what a battle it would have 
been ! Polly must come to my rescue. 

Enter Polly from R. Her face shozvs si^ns of a recent 



ALL ON ACCOUNT OF POLLY. 51 

crying spell and she enters dabbing a handkerchief to her 
eyes. 

Polly {timidly). You sent for me, sir? 

Beverly {turns quickly and confronts her — brusquely). 
Yes. Won't you be seated? {He wares a hand at a chair 
convenient to her and she bozvs and sits. He nervously 
paces to and fro, striving to approach the matter on his 
mind.) Polly, I wish to speak with you regarding- a very 
important matter. {Clears his throat.) 

Polly {misunderstanding him). Oh, Mr. Beverly, Pm 
so sorry it happened. But if you could have seen the sweet 
little darlings, P'm sure you wouldn't have cared. 

Beverly {mystified). Sweet little darlings? What are 
you talking about? 

Polly {relieved). Oh, I thought you knew. It hap- 
pened a little while ago, and — 

Beverly {impatiently interrupting). Yes, yes; but never 
niind. You may tell me some other time. {Clears throat 
nervously.) Polly, your money has been placed in my 
hands, and absolutely with no strings attached to it. I can. 
according to the wording of the papers, do with it any- 
thing I choose and not be held legally responsible for its — 
ah, clisposition. Your father had a world of confidence in 
me and my integrity. 

Polly. Yes, sir ; I know he did. He often told me that 
I could place absolute faith in you, sir. 

Beverly {agitatedly). I — I came pretty near doing a 
contemptible thing. Listen, child. I want to make a con- 
fession. AA^ien your money was placed in my hands I fully 
determined to use it in my personal financial affairs — and 
without consulting you. (She half rises.) ^^'ait. Polly. 
But when you came here, I — I never dreamed you are what 
}'0U are, and your money suddenly appealed to me as a 
sacred trust. I vowed that whatever happened, your inheri- 
tance would not be touched. Polly, it was a terrible temp- 
tation, for they were after me, tooth and nail. And today — 
they got me! (Brokenly.) Every dollar I had in the world 
is gone ! 

Polly (excitedly to feet). No, no, Mr. Beverly — 



52 ALL ON ACCOUNT OF POLLY. 

Beverly (sadly). It's the absolute truth. (Heavily.) 
I am a ruined man. 

Polly. Oh, there must be some way — (sinks into chair.) 

Beverly (suddenly). There is. Your money. (She 
starts.) Oh, I know I have no right to use it; but it might 
be the means of putting me back on my feet. It means 
salvation to me — to you — to all ! 

Polly (rising and smiling sweetly). Then why hesitate? 
(He starts in surprise.) Listen to me, please. I used to 
think that money was the one essential thing in this world. 
I came here just a week ago today, and I've had that idea 
completely knocked out of my head. I came here expect- 
ing to find a happy home, plenty of money with whidi to 
make others happy, and — (sighs) but what a disappoint- 
ment! If money and the striving for it has the effect I've 
seen it have on other folks, then I want to be a pauper the 
rest of my life! 

Beverly. Why, Polly, you don't know — you don't real- 
ize what money means to those accustomed to having it. 
You don't realize its potency, its fascination. 

Polly. I grant you that. But tell me what I can do 
to get rid of mine. 

Beverly (eagerly, and drawing a legal paper from an 
inside pocket). This, Polly, is a power of attorney. You 
sign this and in case — in case I lose — there can be no legal 
obligation, and morally I shall feel justified in the knowl- 
edge that you gave me the money freely and without co- 
ercion. 

Polly (studies a moment). Money can do lots of good 
in the right hands. I had planned to spend mine in the 
right way. (Studies his face an instant.) But something 
tells me that — that daddy would want me to trust you, and 
I will. I. will sign. (Smiles.) 

Beverly. Polly, you're a brick! (To desk, lays paper 
on it, picks up pen and extends it to her.) 

Polly (to desk, takes pen). If we lose, I know I shall be 
happy. If we win, perhaps I shall. (Signs.) 

Beverly (picks up paper and places it in his pocket). 



ALL OX ACCOUXT OF POLLY. 53 

vSomething seems to tell me that tliis — your money — is 
going to — 

Polly {intcrniptiiuj softly). To make us all happy, be- 
cause we shall make others happy — that's why. 

Enter Young, C. D. 

Young (dnni'lingly). Ex-cuse me, please. (Beverly 
and Polly turn to him in surprise). I couldn't make any- 
body understand what I wanted in here, so I jest came in 
anyhow. 

Beverly (cordially). That's all right, Mr. Young. Come 
right in. (Young eyes Beverly suspiciously). Have you 
.brought the note with you? 

Young (nonplussed at his cordial reception). Jest a mo- 
ment, Mr. Beverly. I don't understand why you are so 
anxious for me to come in. 

Beverly. It's a long story. (Meaning glance at Polly.) 
but the young lady here has much to do with. it. (Briskly 
stepping to desk.) You can cancel that note and your 
money's ready. (Picks up pen and check book.) 

Young {looks curiously from Polly to Beverly, dra7^'s 
note cautiously from an inside pocket and goes to desk). 
W^ell, there ain't nothin' like doin' business with a business 
man. (Looks inquiringly at Polly.) 

Beverly. Oh, excuse me, Mr. Young. This is my ward, 
Miss Perkins. (Polly acknowledges introduction ivith a 
nod and smile.) 

Young. Pleased to meet you. Miss Perkins. (Writes 
on hack of note and Jiands it to Beverly, zi'ho in turn hands 
hint the check.) There ye be, Mr. Beverly. (Scrutinizes 
check closely.) It says on the note, "payable in gold.'' But 
I reckon your check is o. k. 

Beverly (laughs). Perfectly. And now, good after- 
noon. Sorry you're in such a hurry. (Extoids Young's 
hat to him.) 

Young {takes hat). Oh, I ain't in no particular rush. 
I got time for a leetle social chat. 

Beverly (ivith a hand on Young's shoulder and sJwr- 
ing him tozvard C. D.). But I haven't. Some other time. 



54 ALL ON ACCOUNT OF POLLY. 

(Clasps Young's hand and shakes it vigorously). Glad 
you called, Mr. Y^oung. 

Young (framed in C. D.). Kinder glad myself. (£.r- 
hibits check and cJiuckles.) Any time, Mr. Beverly, I kin 
be of any service to ye, let me know ; it's sure a pleasure 
to do business without any back-talk 'bout paying an honest 
debt. (Smirks at Polly, bozvs to Beverly and exits C. D.) 

Beverly (crosses to Polly — laughingly). At least the 
new money has made one soul happy. (She smiles.) But 
it's going to do more. It's going to keep the roof over our 
heads. This house is all clear, Polly, thanks to you. (Takes 
both her hands.) 

Polly (softly). Pm so glad, guardie. 

Beverly (kisses her cheek). Bless your heart! I'll go 
now and tell Jane the good news. She w^on't have to move 
mto a Harlem flat. (E.vits R.) 

Polly (sighs happily, glances about the apartment, goes 
to C. D., looks off R.) I wonder how Baldwin got along 
with the children ? 

She again smiles, goes to piano, sits and runs her fingers 
dreamily over the keys, firmly breaking into chorns of 
''Love's Old Szveet Song," playing it with much expres- 
sion. As she finishes chorns, Marie enters from L. She 
crosses to piano and lights piano lamp. The light shines full 
on Polly's face. She is about to speak, then realizes the im- 
pressiveness of the scene and softly tiptoes across to L. and 
exits. As Marie exits, Baldwin enters, C. D. He carries 
a bouquet of roses. As he is well inside Polly begins to 
sing the zvords of the chorus szveetly and dreamily: 

''Ji^ist a song at twilight. 
When the lights are low. 
And the flick'ring shadows 
Softly come and go. 
Th.o' the heart be weary. 
Sad the day and long, 
Still to us at twilight 
Comes Love's old song. 
Comes Love's old sweet song." 



ALL ON ACCOUNT OF POLLY. 55 

{The last line is sung very softly and impressively. 
Baldwin, icho Jias stood spellbound driving Polly's sing- 
ing of the chorus, now slozvly raises the flowers to his face.) 

Slow Curtain. 

Second Curtain. 

Baldwin stands behind Polly, who is seated at the piano 
with both arms over her shoidders, and holding the roses 
in front of her. She inhales their fragrance, then slowly 
lifts her face and smiles up into his. 

Slow Curtain. 



Act III. 

Scene: A month later. Same as Act II,. except that the 
expensive furnishings have given zvay to the more modest 
appearing 'fittings, and the apartment looks more refined 
and comfortable. It is about 6:30 P. M., the shades are 
down and stage lights on. Curtain music, ''Love's Old Szveet 
Song." 

At rise stage is clear. Doorbell rings off C. Marie 
enters from L., crosses to C. D., exits and re-enters, fol- 
lozved by Harkins. He is nozv dressed in ordinary busi- 
ness clothes and carries his hat in his hand. 

Marie (not unkindly). Oh, 'tis you, is it? What do yon 
want, and what do you mean by coming to the front door, 
Ain't the side door good enough fer ye? 

LTarkins (humbly). I beg pardon, miss; but one ques- 
tion at a time. I want to see Mr. Beverly. 

Marie. Well, ye'll have to submit plans and specifica- 
tions of the object of yer call to me, Mr. Harkins. 

LL\rkins. I thou.s;ht perhaps I could obtain my old po- 
sition. (Eagerly.) \\'hat do you think? 

ALvRiE. TheVe ain't a thing happening along that line, 
Mr. Harkins. When the master let you out a month ago, 
'twas his idea not onlv to cut down expenses, but to do 



56 ALL ON ACCOUNT OF POLLY. 

away forever with an expensive piece of junk lilce an 
English butler. (Harkins lifts both hands in horrified 
protest.) Now, why didn't ye come to the side or back 
door? 

Harkins (with deep feeling). I just couldn't bring my- 
self to the thought of passing by the old front door. I was 
stationed there a good many years — and I wanted to see how 
it still looked. 

Marie. Well, I know just about how ye feel, Mr. Har- 
kins. Ye sure did take a world of pride in the opening and 
closing of that front door. I don't believe there's anybody in 
the world that could a-done it better than ye did, Mr. 
Harkins. 

Harkins (proudly). I'm quite sure of that, Marie. 
(Resentfully.) And I'd a-been a openin' and a closin' of it 
yet if it hadn't a-been for that — 

Marie (raising a protesting hand). Stop right there! 
I won't allow ye to mention Miss Polly's name. It's not 
fer the likes of ye to be a-speaking of it. 

Harkins (sidlenly). 'Twas she that got me discharged. 

Marie. And would ye listen to that, now ? A big, strong, 
husky brute of a man like ye, blaming a slip of a girl like 
Polly fer the losing of yer situation. Sure, man, it just 
happened in the natural course of human events. Every 
foreign servant in' the house was given their notice and 
let go. 

Harkins. Every foreign servant? How about you? 

Marie. Sure, and I'm not a foreigner. I'm Irish! Ah, 
it's funny about the rich. As soon as they get dizzy with 
money, they get crazy to import things. French touring 
cars and German chauffeurs ; English butlers and muffins ; 
Japanese stewards and Turkish rugs ; Swiss watches and 
cheese ; Russian furs and caviar ; Italian cooks and French 
maids. B'gorry, the only thing American they'll tolerate 
is money. 

Harkins (dropping his English accent and speaking 
in natural tone of voice.) Ain't that the solemn truth? 

Marie (surprised) . Say, what talk have ye now? And 
yer not English? 



ALL ON ACCOUNT OF POLLY. 57 

Harkins, Only when I'm English butlering. At other 
times I'm a regular American citizen. (Sighs deeply.) 
However, I see no use in keeping up the deception further. 

Marie. Mr. Harkins, I'm surprised at ye. 

Harkins. And why? Aren't you a French maid, born 
in Ireland? 

Marie. True fer ye ; but the good Lord be praised I've 
come into me own again. Since Miss Polly came, now, 
b'gorry. me name is just plain Mary -O'Brien. 

Harkins. Well, I'm sure I bear you no ill-will. (Sighs.) 
I had a good job, and if I do say it myself, I was .a first- 
class butler and used a select brand of English accent. 

Marie. Shame on ye, fer the deceivin' villain ye are. 
I can't give ye back yer job, but I can give you some ad- 
vice. Drop the idea of butlering and go out and get ye 
a man's-sized job. Sure, grab a pick and shovel. Maybe 
ye'll get a crick in yer back, but it won't be from bowing 
and scraping to a snobbish bunch of Feather-Stones and 
Chadfields. Now, let that soak into ye, Mr. Harkins. 

Harkins (Jwrvified). Me? Me with a pick and shovel, 
digging a ditch? Lord, what would become of my dignity? 

IMarie. Sure, and if the ditch was deep enough, 'twould 
cover up yer dignity. But I've lolly-gagged long enough 
with ye. I have more important things to do. Are ye leav- 
ing by the side or back door? 

Harkins. Just a moment, Marie — 

Marie. Plain Mary, if ye please, Mr. Harkins. 

Harkins. They tell me, Mary, if ye please, that things 
have changed greatly in this house — since Miss Polly came. 

Marie. Changed ? Faith and ye wouldn't know the folks 
now. Ye should see the way they live. 'Tis a blessed at- 
mosphere that prevails here. And Miss Polly's the cause 
of it all. Sure, I don't know just where New England is, 
but Miss Polly came from there, so it must be just between 
Heaven and Ireland. 

Mrs. B. (off L., sweetly). Never mind, Hortense. I 
shall do very well now. You may go. (Harkins edges 
tozvard C. D.) 

Marie (guardedly). Ye notice the difference in the mis- 



58 ALL ON ACCOUNT OP^ POLLY. 

sus' voice? Sure, she's all gentleness and kindness. But, 
be on yer way, and good luck go with ye. 

Harkins (guardedly). Thank you, Marie — Mary, I 
mean. Goodbve — and I believe I'll look for a pick and 
shovel. (Exits C. D.) 

Marie (calling after him, laughingly). More power to 
ye, Mr. Harkins. 

Enter Mrs. Beverly, from L. She is in a modest house 
dress, amply protected by a cover-all apron, with sleeves 
rolled to elhozvs and hands coated thickly with Hour. Alto- 
gether sh.e presents a picture of a szveet but dignified 
matron wrapped up in her household affairs. 

Mrs. B. Ah, Mary. Have the men come home yet? 

Marie. No, ma'am. But they should be along any 
minute now, ma'am. 

Mrs. B. (carefully holding Jiands to avoid flour). I've 
got my shortcake all ready for the oven, and I don't want 
to go any further with it until they come. (Laughs hap- 
pily.) Mary, just think. Mrs. Ralph Beverly making a 
shortcake — look at my hands. 

Marie (cheerily). Ah, sure and 'tis a picture ye are, 
ma'am — and yer hands, 'tis exquisite they are. 

Mrs. B. (laughingly). Now, now, Mary; none of your 
Irish blarney. I used to make a very acceptable short- 
cake, once upon a time. But now (dubiously) I'm afraid 
domestic science has become a lost art with me. 

Marie. Faith, ma'am, I wouldn't say that. Sure, the 
eggs ye boiled this morning fer breakfast was charming. 

Mrs. B. (smiles). Thanks, Mary. But I must go back 
to the kitchen. I thought I heard voices a moment ago, 
and — 

Marie. So ye did, ma'am. ^Ir. Harkins called to see if 
ye could overlook the fact that he once did English butler- 
ing fer a living, and could ye give him a job where there 
was work attached to it. 

Mrs. B. I don't believe we can. Since we are all work- 
ing around here, now, there doesn't seem to be any va- 
cancv for an outsider, does there? 



ALL ON ACCOUNT OF POLLY. 59 

Marie. I was after telling him that, ma'am. 

Enter Beverly, C. D. He is dressed in a neat dark busi- 
rcess suit. Marie takes his hat. 

Beverly (to Mrs. B., greeting her zvith outstretched 
arms). Llello, girlie! My, how homey we do look. 

Mrs. B. {throws both arms about his neck, leaving the 
imprint of her floured hands on the back of his coat). You 
silly boy. (The^y kiss — Marie smiles indnlgently.) 

Beverly (zvith back to audience, shozving flour. Play- 
ftdly, to Marie). Don't mind us, Mary. You know we're 
enjoying our second honeymoon. 

Marie. Sure I wasn't laughing at yer love making. 
(Grins broadly.) 

Beverly. At what, then? 

Marie (pointing). At the back of yer coat, sir. (Mrs. 
B. discovers flour marks on his coat and laughs heartily. 
Beverly tzvists and turns in an attempt to see back of his 
coat. Failing; in this, he finally removes it and holds it up 
in both hands.) 

Beverly. By George ! The imprint of a woman's 
hands. (Laughs.) It's a mighty good thing I didn't have 
it there when I came in. 

Mrs. B. (to Marie). Mary, remove the evidence. (Ma- 
rie starts to take coat.) 

Beverly (hastily draiving coat out of her reach). No, 
you don't. You leave it alone. That ''evidence" shall for- 
ever be retained as one of my dearest possessions. 

AIrs. B. (laughing softly). You'll look nice going to 
business with a reproduction of my hands on the back of 
your coat. 

Beverly (reverently]. I shall never wear that coat again. 

Mrs. B. (happily). WeW, this is no place for me. I 
hear the call of the kitchen. Come, Mary. (The zvonien 
exeunt L.) 

Beverly (foUozving Mrs*. B. zcith his eyes). Bless her 
heart! 

Enter Polly. 7?. 



60 ALL ON ACCOUNT OF POLLY. 

Polly (advancing to greet Beverly). Guardie! (Stops 
abruptly, puzzled.) Why, what in the world — 

Beverly (interrupting her and displaying floured hack 
of coat). Look, Polly — isn't that simply wonderful? 

Polly (mystified) . It's flour, isn't it? 

Beverly (tenderly and impressively). It's more than 
flour, Polly. It's the imprint of tv/o hands that belong to 
the most wonderful woman in 'all the world — my wife! 
(Polly smiles and reaches for coat; he zuithdrazvs it.) 
No, Polly; you mustn't brush it off. But I apologize. 
There is another wonderful woman in the world — you! 

Polly (laughs). Guardie, you haven't had your Scotch 
so early in the evening, have you? 

Beverly. Not a drop. I'm trying to make you under- 
stand, Polly, that my wife is not above cooking meals for 
an old fossil like me, and that you — you are responsible 
for me getting something to eat that I can pronounce and 
digest — 

Polly (kissing him). Guardie, you're not an old fossil. 
How are things at the ofiice? 

Beverly (enthusiastically). Fine! Just fine, Polly. It's 
going to take a little time to whip things into shape, but 
we'll do it. Besides — (zvitJi a glance at the coat in his 
hands) — how can anybody help doing things when every- 
body works with you? (Admiringly.) Polly, you're a 
wonder. Even Baldwin has gone to work. (Laughs.) It's 
hard to make 'em believe in New York that Baldwin is 
clerking in our village grocery. 

Polly. Well, and why not? He had to do something. 
You wouldn't give him a job. 

Beverly (grimaces). I didn't have any work that he 
could do. 

Polly. He is a splendid grocery clerk. 

Beverly (laughs good-naturedly) . Yes, and I'm proud 
of him. By gad, I never knew 'twas in him ! It's all due 
to you. But this won't do. I'jl get a scolding if I don't 
change for dinner. Coming? '(Goes toward L. exit.) 

Polly (moving tozmrd C. D., softly). No. Guardie. I — 
I think I'll walk down the road a way. 



ALL ON ACCOUNT OF POLLY. 61 

Beverly (teasingly) . All right. Tell him to make sure 
that our eggs are fresh. (Grins broadly over a shoulder at 
her as he exits L.) 

Polly, abashed, turns to exit C. D., when enter from R., 
HoRTENSE, Geraldine and Peter. Hortense carries a 
skein of worsted, a piece of linen and a needle. Gerald- 
ine also has some fancy work. 

Hortense {discovering Polly at C. D.). Hello, dear. 
Going out? 

Polly. Just down the road a way. (Hortense and 
Geraldine sit.) 

Geraldine {smilingly. To Polly.) Oh, stay and talk to 
Peter. 

Peter (eagerly). Yes, do. Pve been dreadfully bored, 
don't you know. 

Polly (smiles). Some other time. 

Geraldine (meaningly). Oh, I know. (Sighs.) I wish 
I had somebody to walk down the road for. 

Polly (smilingly). I won't be long. (Exits C. D.) 

Hortense (referring to Polly). And Ave once thought 
she was an awful thing! (Prepares her zvork.) 

Geraldine. She's one girl in a million. (Applies her- 
self assiduously to her needle zvork.) 

Peter (zvifh a meaning glance at Hortense). That is a 
libel, pure and simple. There's one more. 

Hortense (to Peter, zvith mock severity). Now, Peter, 
no loafing. Hold this. (Extends skein to him, he kneels 
on floor in front of her and she hooks skein over his 
thumbs and begins to zvind it into a ball.) 

Geraldine. Peter, you really look romantic in that po- 
sition. 

Peter. By Jove, I don't feel so. How long must I stay 
here on my jolly knees? 

Hortense. Until this skein becomes a ball. But you 
may rest easy. There's no thinking attached to your work. 

Peter. Ah, thanks. What's the bally idea? (Nods 
head, indicating the girls' zvork.) 



62 ALL ON ACCOUNT OF POLLY. 

HoRTENSE. Charity, Peter. Sweet charity! Coming 
church bazaar. 

Peter. My word ! It's the first time in my hfe I ever 
did a thing for charity. By Jove, I feel really — I say, 
what's the word I want to use? 

HoRTENSE. I don't know. You have so many words, 
Peter. 

Geraldine (to Hortense). If Peter belonged to me, I 
should try to redeem him. (Peter stares at her.) 

Hortense. What? Redeem him! It can't be done. 

Geraldine. You know he's not at all a bad chap at 
heart. He has the makings of a real man in him ; but he'll 
never, never arrive with that English mannerism and mon- 
ocle tied to him. (To Peter, earnestly.) Peter, why don't 
you? (Hortense shozvs interest.) 

Peter (staring at her, rises slozvly to feet). A\'hat ! 
Change the habits of a life time? My word! I cawnt— 
simply cawnt ! 

Hortense (zvinding last of the skein — softly). We 
thought so, too, Peter — but you see, don't you? 

Peter (heivilderedly). Yes, I — I know, h\\{ you had ma- 
terial to work on. 

Hortense. Now, see here, Peter, suppose we start witli 
this. (She takes monocle from him and lays it on table. 
He is dumbfounded, while Geraldine nods her keen ap- 
proval at LIortense's action.) That's a joke, dear — no lon- 
ger accepted as anything else by the real Englishmen. 

Peter (gaspingly). I — I say, Hortense — my word! 

Hortense. Now that we have done away with that aw- 
ful affair, suppose we start to work dry-cleaning that ter- 
rible language you persist in using. 

Geraldine. Yes, Peter, I'm sure you can be cured. 
(Peter stares helplessly from one to the other.) 

Hortense (to Peter). Let's commence on that. Now 
I shall give you a sentence, and you must repeat it after 
me, trying to follow closely my intonation and so forth, 
word for word. Now, let me think. (Pause.) Oh, yes. 
''Made-in-America" language, habits and dress are good 



ALL ON ACCOUNT OF POLLY. 63 

enough for me. \Miy imitate foreigners? (Geraldine 
claps hands in hearty approval.) 

Peter {feeling for the accustouied monocle and desper- 
ately trying to think out sentence correctly before speaking 
it). "Made-in-America" language — (pauses). 

LIoRTENSE. Yes, yes ; go on, Peter. You're doing very 
well. 

Peter (struggling mentally to remember the rest). ''Made 
-in-America" language — (stops again). 

Geraldixe (impatiently). Don't repeat, Peter. Go 
right on. 

Peter (desperately). ''Made-in-America" language and 
other stuff is all to the good. AMiy steal foreign junk? 
(The girls laugh and Peter mops his forehead ivith hand- 
kerchief.) 

HoRTENSE. Fine, Peter! It wasn't word for word as I 
gave it to you, but you hit the true meaning and it came 
from the heart — that's what counts. 

Peter (all fussed up, relapsing into his English exag- 
geration again). My word, that was jolly well done for 
me, wasn't it? 

Hortense (disappointedly). Oh, now you've spoiled it 
all. How could you, Peter? 

Geraldine (laughingly) . Oh, don't scold him, Hortense. 
Give him a chance. Remember, we didn't "find ourselves"' 
in a day. Besides, he is trying. 

Hortense. You're right, Geraldine. \\q\\, we've made 
a start wnth him, anyhow. But there's still one other tiling, 
Peter. 

Peter (zveakly). Oh, Lord! 

Geraldine. I believe I could find more than one. 

Hortense (to Peter). And that's your oodles and oodles 
of money. Now, see here, Peter. What are you going to 
do about that? (Peter gasps.) You know, you simply 
can't go on having all that money. Besides — 

Peter (interrupting). Great Scott! Wait a moment. 
What do you mean by that "besides" thing? 

Hortense. Pm coming to that. First, we must settle 
this money question. 



64 ALL ON ACCOUNT OF POLLY. 

Peter. Do you want me to be a beastly beggar? (Froui 
nozv on until end of play he gets his language mixed; one 
time using the. broad English accent and then the more 
natural voice.) 

HoRTENSE. Besides, Peter, you've never worked a day 
in your life. (Lmpressi-cely.) You've simply got to go to 
work! (Peter gasps and sinks limply into a chair.) 

Geraldine (delightedly). Now you've spoken, Hortense. 
"Them" are great words. 

Peter (dismally). First, I must give my money away, 
and then I must go to — to work. Holy smoke! (Ger- 
aldine nods her approval.) 

Hortense (standing in front of Peter and laying it 
dozvn). Don't misunderstand me, Peter. I don't want you 
to be, as you term it, a "beastly beggar." But your money 
simply must do something in this world besides pile up and 
draw interest. Money is a wonderful thing, Peter, but only 
if it is in the proper hands. Be guided by those who have 
unselfishly given their all to charity. They will know the 
best way for you to invest it to bring happiness to others. 
(Stops suddenly and laughs — abashed.) Pm afraid I haven't 
had sufficient experience as yet to be really eloquent; but 
I do want to make my meaning clear, if I can. 

Geraldine. Couldn't have done better myself, sis. 

Peter. By Jove, she's a regular Chautauqua talker, isn't 
she? Now I understand pretty well about my money. 1 
don't give a hang for that. But going to work ! Do you 
want me to be a bally grocery clerk, like Baldwin ? 

Geraldine. No, she can't expect the impossible Peter. 
Baldwin is a wonderful grocery clerk. 

Hortense (chidingly). Now, now, Geraldine. To repeat 
your own words, "give him a chance." Look at Baldwin. 
Could anybody ever have pictured him as a grocery clerk? 

Geraldine. Yes, and a good one, too. 

Peter (rising, thrusts hands in his trousers pockets and 
paces thoughtfully to and fro. Finally stops and faces the 
girls with a manly bearing and voice.) Girls, you're right. 
(They start ivith glad surprise.) Oh, it has been coming on 
nie — this thing — for the past few weeks. I could see the 



ALL ON ACCOUNT OF POLLY. 65 

change for the good in you and the other folks in this house. 
I could see it even without the aid of that — (points at mon- 
ocle on table). I could see where I had been all wrong. 
Our talk this evening clinches it. Girls, I am under orders. 
Lead me to it. (Salaams to them. The girls applaud his 
speech by an enthusiastic clapping of their hands.) 

Geraldine. Positively the greatest speech I ever heard. 

HoRTENSE (kissing him). Peter, that shows I am proud 
of you. 

Peter (ovenvhelmed, relapses into his English manner). 
My word! What an astounding ovation! (Suddenly re- 
alizes his mistake, straightens quickly to on erect attitude 
and slaps his chest zioleiitly.) Ladies, I humbly beg your 
pardon. I shall be more careful in the future. Now, Hor- 
tense, I'm going to ask something in return for my sacri- 
fices. A little music. (Geraldine makes a face. Peter 
goes to piano.) 

HoRTENSE (appealingly). No, no, Peter — not that! 

Peter. Why not ? 

HoRTENSE. Just as you were "all wrong" with your 
ideas, I have been "all wrong" with my music. Please 
don't ask me. 

Peter (looking over music on piano rack). Well, I liked 
it. ril tell you what. You play and Pll sing. (Hortense 
and Geraldine make wry faces.) You know, in that way, 
one crime will ofi^set the other. Now, come on. I shall 
sing. 

Geraldine. Don't rub it in, Peter. 

PIortense (rising and going to piano). To please you, 
Peter. But no ragtime, mind you. 

Peter. No, not if you say so. Here's a favorite song 
of mine. (He hands her sheet of music. To Geraldine.) 
Come on, Geraldine, you're in on this. (Geraldine smiles 
and joins him at piano.) Now go ahead. Make it good 
and loud when we hit the chorus. (The song Peter has 
selected shoidd be some old favorite or a simple ballad, one 
affording good harmony for their voices. They sing verse 
and chorus in creditable manner, but as they repeat chorus, 
Peter ''gets off the key" and the finish is a ludicrous dis- 



66 ALL ON ACCOUNT OF POLLY. 

cord. HoRTENSE rises quickly from piano stool and Ger- 
ALDINE stops cars zcith tips of fingers.) 

HoRTENSE. Oh, Peter, Peter; how could you? 

Peter (rneftdly). I don't know. I guess I must have 
slipped. (Eagerly.) But let's try it again. Nothing hke 
practice, you know. 

Geraldine. No, no — once was plenty. 

Enter Mrs. Beverly from L. 

Mrs. B. (zcith servile bozv). Dinner is served, ladies. 
(To Peter, heartily.) And you, too, Peter. Fve made a 
place for you; so hurry along. Where's Polly and Bald- 
win? Not come yet? 

Hortense. No, mother; not yet. (Smiles.) Give them 
a chance. 

Mrs. B. (smiles knoivingly). I understand. But come 
along. We can't wait. My dinnerll be cold. (Peter gaily 
places himself between girls and they crdss to L.) 

Gerai.dixe (to ]\Irs. B.). Oh, mother, we have some- 
thing to tell you about Peter. 

Hortense. It's perfectly wonderful ! 

Geraldine. You'll never be able to believe it, but it's 
true. 

Peter. Pm to be a jolly beggar and go to work. 

]\Irs. B. A\^ell, tell me all about it between the soup and 
the salad. Come along. 

They exeunt L. As they are well off, enter Polly and 
Baldwin, C. D. Baldwin is attired in a neat business 
suit. He tosses his hat on a chair, then very carefully 
reaches a hand in an inside pocket and brings out a pay 
envelope. He holds it up and eyes it proudly. 

Baldwin. There, Polly ; look ! My pay envelope, seal 
unbroken. I wanted you to be the first to see the first 
dollar I ever earned. (Extends it to her.) 

Polly (slozvly reaching a hand for it and then rever- 
ently taking it). My, isn't it just too wonderful! (Hesi- 
tates to open it, Hu^i^crin!^ it curiously.) And you — you want 
me to open it? 



ALL ON ACCOUNT OF POLLY. * 67 

Baldwin (softly). Yes, Polly — please. 

Polly (tears open envelope and ga::es zvondenngly 
within). My, what a lot of money! (They both look in 
envelope, awe-stricken.) 

Baldwin (proudly). Two weeks salary — twelve per 
week — twenty-four dollars. 

Polly (extracts the bills, ni}is them over, counting them: 
looks at bills and then at him and reconnts money). Hum! 
Some mistake, Baldwin. 

Baldwin (startled). Hey? Say, Pm not "shy" am I? 

Polly. No; you've got more here than you — why, 
there's twenty-eight dollars here, Baldwin. (They look at 
each other in amazement.) 

Baldwin (takes money and counts it). Twenty-eight 
dollars ! Now what do you malve of that ? 

Polly (thoughtful pause, suddenly),. T have it. They've 
given you a raise. 

Baldwin. No! (purj.rjled — finally). Wait! I have it. 
(Excitedly and rapidly.) It's what happened today. Mrs. 
Feather-Stone, personally conducted by Mrs. Chadfield, 
made a tour of our store. She'd never let me wait on her 
before. Today all the other clerks were busy. She had to 
come to me. W'hen I finished she graciously thanked me 
for my courteous efforts, saying she had never before re- 
ceived better attention from any sales person. When she 
was going out she talked to Mr. Wetherby. She must have 
eulogized me — that's the answer. vShe's the cause of the 
twenty-eight instead of the tw^enty-four. Can you believe 
it, Polly? Mrs. Feather-Stone! 

Polly (softly repeating). Mrs. Feather-Stone! Bless 
her heart! Oh, Baldwin, Pm so proud of you. 

Baldwin (Jiangs head in confusion an.d scrapes floor 
with tip of shoe). Oh, cut it out, Polly! (Suddenly raises 
head — proudly.) But I haven't started yet. Just you watch 
me. I know the stock and prices of everything. There's 
only one thing I haven't grasped yet. 

Polly (anxiously). What's that, Baldwin? 

Baldwin. Those confounded self-computing weighing 
machines. They've got me whipped. 



68 • ALL ON ACCOUNT OF POLLY. 

Polly {laughs — quickly). Oh, we're forgetting all about 
dinner. And your mother's made a delicious shortcake, too. 

Baldwin. Eat? Say, I'm too happy to eat. Eat, with 
twenty-eight large dollars I've earned all by myself? Not 
so's you can notice it. Eat? Well, not when you've given 
me the right to do this. (Kisses her. His arms are about 
her and they assume a loving attitude. Doorbell off C. D. 
rings, but they apparently do not hear it.) 

Enter Marie from L. in anszver to bell. She discovers 
them in their fond embrace and stops abruptly halfway bc- 
tiveen L. exit and C. D. Bell rings again. 

Marie {apologetically). Ahem! I beg your pardon; but 
someone's at the door. ( They are still oblivious of her pres- 
ence.) I — I really do have to beg your pardon, ye know. 
The doorbell rung twice now — bad cess to it! 

Baldwin (slozvlv raising head and gaaing at ]\Iarie in 
surprise). Oh! Did you wish something, Mary? (Polly 
frees herself from Baldwin's embrace and stands aside, 
abashed.) 

Marie {confusedly). Yes, sir; no, sir; I mean. But 
there's somebody at the door. 

Baldwin. Oh, certainly. That could happen, couldn't 
it? Most natural thing in the world, I- suppose. {Crossly.) 
But why anybody should come and ring the bell just at this 
particular moment, is the puzzling thing. See who it is, 
Mary. 

Marie. Yes, sir. {Hastily e.vits C. D.) 

Baldwin. As Geraldine says, 'There's always some- 
body to knock the joy out of life." 

Polly {arranging her hair). Baldwin, you've mussed 
my hair terribly. 

Baldwin. Say, Polly, that isn't a marker to what you've 
done to my heart. Put your head down here and listen to 
it. {He tries to draw her head dozvn to his breast, but she 
evades him.) 

Enter Marie, noisily, follozved by Pudgy and Tommy. 
The children are nozv decidedly ''dressed'' up. 



ALL ON ACCOUNT OF POLLY. 69 

Marie (pompously announcing) . Miss Pudgy Tompkins, 
Master Tommy Tompkins! (Polly and Baldwin w/z/r/ 
simultaneously and face C. D. Polly, zvith a glad cry, 
rushes to caress the children.) 

Baldwin. Well, look who's here! Come right in. Miss 
Tompkins and Mr. Tompkins. (He fondles children, Ma- 
rie smiles indulgently.) 

Marie (admiringly). My, but don't they look swell. 

Baldwin. They sure do. (Ga::es critically at their 
faces and Jiands:) And you don't need any soap and water 
today, do you ? You know, the last time you called, I ruined 
a perfectly good pair of gloves on your account. 

Polly (reproringly) . Baldwin! That isn't a nice thing 
to say. (He grins. Polly seats the children.) Tell me, 
Pudgy, how's mother and father? 

Pudgy. They're very well, thank you. 

Tommy. And my pa's working, he is. 

Baldwin (to Tommy). Wait a minute. Tommy. Are 
you sure your father's working? 

Tommy. Sure he is — every day. 

Baldwin (to Polly). Say, if you've got him working — 
good night! (Throws up both hands in comic dismay.) 

Marie. Sure, she's a wonder. 

Polly. It is nothing to exclaim over, Pm sure. Soon 
as ever he discovered the true happiness to be enjoyed from 
a day's work, the rest was easy. 

Baldwin. And the joy punch contained in a pay envel- 
ope, eh ? 

Pudgy (slides from her chair, clasps Tommy^s hand. 
They pose for inspection. To Baldwin.) Say, this is the 
first time you have ever seen us in our society clothes, 
ain't it? 

Tommy. Yes, you'd better give us the once-over, so's 
you'll have a good run fer yer money. (They strut proudly 
about, while the others look on in enjoyment.) 

Marie (zvith deep feeling). Faith, I can't look at the 
little darlings any longer. My — my throat is getting all 
clogged up. (Turns away and dabs at her eyes zvith hand- 
kerchief.) 



70 ALL ON ACCOUNT OF POLLY. 

Pudgy (to Tommy, severely). Now see what you've 
done. You made that funny-talking lady cry. 

Tommy (looking at Marie an instant, going to her and 
grasping her hand). Please, lady, I didn't mean to. (Marie 
turns szviftly and gathers Tommy in her arms.) 

Enter Mrs. B. from L. She has discarded the apron. 
Stops abruptly as she discovers the children. 

Mrs. B. Well, bless my soul and body! You little dar- 
lings. (Gathers both children to her and into a motherly 
embrace. Baldwin smiles at Polly, and she, much affected, 
turns azvay to hide her emotion.) 

Baldwin (to Mrs. B., with mock anxiety). Don't hurt 
them, mother. 

Mrs. B. Not for the world. (She kneels on floor with 
children before her and engages them in conversation. 
Marie stands alongside, smiling indidgently.) 

Baldwin (aside to Polly). Say, what's the matter? You 
look like a couple of funerals. 

Polly (turning tq him). Oh. I am so happy! 

Baldwin. Can you beat that? When a woman is happy, 
she cries. \Anien she is sad, she cries, only not so hard. 

Enter Beverly from L., follozved by Hortense, Ger- 
aldine and Peter. Beverly is in Tuxedo suit. 

Beverly. Hello, what's all this? (Advances to fondle 
the children.) 

Peter, ^^'ell, if it isn't my little old pals. (Goes to 
children.) 

Hortense. My, oh, my! What a surprise! 

Geraldine (to children). And where did you get all the 
nice things, bless your hearts ! 

Pudgy (indicating Baldwin). Him. 

To^imy. He's some Santa Glaus when he gets started. 

Mrs. B. (meaningly). Some folks around here are too 
busy to eat, but you're not, are you? (They shake their 
heads vigorously.) I thouc^ht not. Well, all my nice things 
are not going to waste. You come with me. (Takes each 
by a hand. To Marie.) Come, Mary. I shall need your 



ALL ON ACCOUNT OF POLLY. 71 

assistance. These children have "some" appetites. (Mrs. 
B., Marie and the children cross to L., turn at exit and 
the children how and the four exeunt. The others wave their 
adieus.) 

Beverly {to Baldwin). Well, young man. What do 
you mean by being late for your dinner? 

Baldwin. Father, I have the best excuse in the world. 
{Indicates Polly.) 

Polly {laughingly). I suppose I must take the blame — 
and I am going to get my dinner, ^ome on, Baldwin. If 
some folks don't know enough to eat their dinners, we'll do 
it for them. {She starts for exit L.) 

Baldwin. Wait, Polly. {She turns expectantly.) Aren't 
you going to tell the folks — something? 

Polly. Oh, gracious! What a selfish creature I am. 
Baldwin is far too modest to tell you of his great exploits, 
so suppose I must. He got a raise. Mind you, a raise, 
unsolicited. 

Beverly {incredulously). No! 

Peter, Impossible! (Forgets himself.) My word! 

Geraldine. Oh ! 

Hortense. Good gracious ! 

Polly. It's true. (Baldwin nods emphatically.) 

Beverly {to Baldwin). You scamp! I always knew 
'twas in you. How did it happen ? 

Polly. He waited on Mrs. Feather-Stone with such ad- 
mirable courtesv, don't you know, that before she left 
(mimics Mrs. Feather-Stone's lofty manner) she com- 
plimented him very highly to Mr. Wetherby. {They all line 
up at either side of Baldwin and stare at him as if he zcere 
some strange creature. Comedy picture.) 

Baldwin (finally draws money from pocket and proudly 
displays it to the azve-struck group). Twenty-eight large 
American dollars! Think of it, folks! (They noiv transfer 
their gaze from him to the money he is holding on high. 
Another picture. Geraldine and Hortense throw their 
arms about his neck and kiss him effusively, while his 
father clasps his hand and zvrings it vigorously.) 

I'eter {to Baldwin, after they separate). Twenty-eight 



72 ALL ON ACCOUNT OF POLLY. 

dollars! And you — you earned it? {Impressk'ely.) You 
lucky dog. {They all laugh.) 1 say, Baldwin, can I get a 
job in your store? {Again they laugh, hut he is perfectly 
serious.) 

Baldwin. Say, Peter, are you spoofing me? 

Peter. Never more serious in all my life, young man. 

HoRTENSE (to Baldwin). No, Baldwin, Peter is in 
deadly earnest. 

Geraldine. Haven't you noticed anything wrong — I 
mean, new and startling about him? 

Baldwin (after a critical survey). No — o, I can't say as 
I have. A^Hiat's the matter with him? (Anxiously.) He's 
not been trying to think, has he ? 

Geraldine (picks up monocle from table and dangles it 
by thread). This is one thing, Baldwin. He's divorced this. 

Hortense. And his speech — haven't you noticed? 

Peter (in manly tone). Confound it! What's the usei^ 

Baldwin (stares — grasps Peter by hand). Pete, old 
man, get in! (Vigorously shakes Peter's hand, forcing him 
to wince.) 

Beverly (to Baldwin, tcasingly). Son. what are you go- 
ing to do with all that money? 

Baldwin. Pay my board — and my debts. 

Beverly. By George, it remained for strangers to dis- 
cover there was something in you. Now, see here, young 
man. If this Weth.erby man considers you worth v$14 per 
week, I consider you worth $25 per week to me. Under- 
stand that? (Crosses to L. exits, turns.) You start in to- 
morrow morning. And if 3^ou're late — (makes a threaten- 
ing gesture). Now come on to dinner. (Polly places a 
hand on Baldwin''s aj-m and smiles up into his face.) 

Peter (to Beverly anxiously). I say, Mr. Beverly, 
don't you want an office boy? 

Beverly. By Jove, yes! That's th.e kind of stuiT T like 
to hear. You may report also. But I warn you — business 
is business. (He smiles and exits.) 

Hortense (crossing to L. exit). Come on, folks. Pm 
nearly famished, and I know mother is out of patience by 
this time. (Exits L.) 



ALL ON ACCOUNT OF POLLY. IZ 

Geraldine {jollovAng Hortense). Come along, Peter. 
Remember, you have to get down early and sweep out the 
office. (Exits.) 

Peter (follozving her, turns at exit). I don't want to be 
a fussie or anything, but don't you folks ever eat? (Exits.) 

Baldwin (to Polly, puckering up his lips). Just one, 
Polly? 

Polly. Why, Baldwin — no ! 

Baldwin. Oh, come on. \\'hat's a little thing like a 
kiss — between sweethearts? (She hesitates.) Stingy! 

Polly. Well — just one. 

Baldwin. And now, as they say in story books, little 
remains to be told. Polly and Baldwin were married and 
lived happily ever afterward — all on account of Polly. 
(Off stage, Peter, Hortense and Geraldine sing in per- 
fect h.annony the chorus of ''Love's Old Szueet Song." All 
stage lights are suddenly turned out. Polly and Baldwin 
are seen with faces and lips close together as the spot-light 
is throzvn on them. They hold picture until chorus off stage 
is finished, a la moving picture climax.) 

Curtain. 



Mrs. Tubbs of Shanty town 

By WALTER BEN HARE. 

Price, 25 Cents 

Comedy-drama in 3 acts; 4 males, 7 females (5 are children). 
Time, 2^4 hours. Scene: 1 interior. Characters: Mrs. Tubbs, 
the sunshine of Shantytown. Miss Clingie Vine, her lady boarder, 
real genteel. Mrs. Hicl^ey, a neighbor who hates gossip. Maydelle 
Campbell, the young school teacher. Simon Rubbels, the corner 
gi'ocery man. Tom Riordan, tlie census taker, Queenie, aged 
twelve. Metliusalem, aged eleven. Billy, aged seven. Victoria, 
aged three. Elmiua, aged ten. 

SYNOPSIS. 

Act I. — Mrs. Mollie Tubbs and her happy little family in 
Shantytown. The pretty, young school teacher and the Census 
Taker have a disagreement. Mrs. Tubbs as first aid to Cupid. 
Mrs. Hickey expresses her opinion of Simon Rubbels. Miss Clingie 
Vine has her census taken. "My maw was a Virginia Hamm, and 
whenever we had company, papaw always wore full evening 
garbage." Bad news from Kansas. "There ain't no way too far 
for a mother's love. I'm going to my boy." 

Act II. — A month later. Mrs. Tubbs returns. Simon Rubbels 
decides to find a wife. "If he ain't a red -headed hippopotamus, 
there never was one on this green earth." A Shantytown high 
jinks with song and menagerie. Clingie Vine decides to be a siren. 
Tlie light in the window for Jimmie. "I've got my babies, and 
I've got their love, and all the money in the world can't take that 
from me, so Mr. Simon Rubbles, the lionorable Mrs. Tubbs re- 
spectfully declines your offer of matrimony." 

Act III. — A Shantytown Thanksgiving. Mrs. Hickey brings the 
news and Miss Vine inherits a fortune. Mr. Rubbels worries Mrs. 
Tubbs again. "Tou kin turn me out in the streets tomorrow, but 
tonight this house belongs to me. Now there's the door and 
there's your hat. I won't detain you no longer." Miss Vine and 
the good looking grocery boy. "Jimmie, my boy, my boy!" The 
return of the Prodigal Son. "I reckon I'm the happiest woman in 
the United States of America. My cup runneth over, my cup 
runneth over!" ^^g tUBBS SAYS: 

"Clingie's certainly a long time makin' up her mind, but when 
she's sot a steam shovel himself couldn't unset her." 

"I hope and I trust, and when a person hopes and trusts fer 
a thing they ginerally git it. Everything is bound to come out 
right some time." 

"I ain't goin' to worry. There ain't no use in h'istin' your 
umbrella until it begins to rain." 

"I jest do wliat I have to do and make the best of it. Mr. 
Tubbs used to say that my voice would scare anything, so I jest 
try to make it scare the blues." 

"Bibulous? Bibulous, Theodore Tubbs, bibulous? "WTiy, mister, 
that man didn't know no more about the Bible than my sister's 
cat's tail. And what's more, I ain't got no sister. 

"Men is men the hull world over, and it seems jest like it's 
a man's nature to do tliat which they oughtn't to do, and to leave 
undone them things they ought to have did. That's Scripture." 

"What difference does money make? If you've got your youth 
and your strength and your love, that's worth all the money that 
was ever made in this whole world." 

"Love your country and stand up fer it to the last ditch. Poor 
folks can love their country jest the same as rich ones. And better." 

"Keep smiling." 

T. S. DENISON & COMPANY, Publishers 

154 W. Randolph Street, CHICAGO 



Sava^eland 

By WALTER BEN HARE. 

Price, 50 Cents 

Musical comedy in 2 acts; 5 males, o females and chorus. 
Time, 2i/^ hours. Scenes: 2 exteriors. Characters: Jake Heinz, 
the fifty-ninth variety. Sherlocko Combs, a defective detective. 
Buckskin Buddy, from Savageland. Gilroy Cla\', in love. Bij? Chief 
Heap Much Scalpem. Marigold Lee, the Quaker maid. Daffodil 
Dotty, poetess of passion. Birdie Magoogin, the Irish Cinderella. 
Ysobel, in vaudeville. VVee-nah, the marble lady. Contains nine 
catchy songs: "Summer Girlies," "Fair Quaker Maid," "The Mod- 
est Blossom," "Letter Song-," "Ho, for the West," "He Never Came 
Back Again," "The Little Birch Canoe," "The Message of the Red, 
Red Rose" and "Twinkle Doodle Dum." Five of the song;s are set 
to original music by Henry Bethuel Vincent. Tlie remainder are 
sung to familiar college airs. The foundation of the plot is laughter, 
carefree, a bit of satire, a touch of sentiment, which combined, 
will make you understand that life's a merry jest in Savageland. 
Detailed directions given witli each musical number for the ar- 
rangement of the chorus, marcliing, stage pictures, etc. 

First produced by The Savage Club at Cornell University. Suit- 
able for any occasion and especially recommended for college and 
high school productions. 

SYNOPSIS. 

Act T. — The Summer Girls and the Little Quaker Maid. f:her- 
locko Combs, the wonderful detective, searching for a missing 
heiress. "She's worth a million, has a green shamrock tatooed 
on her right wrist and wears a No. 10 shoe." Buckskin Buddy 
from Savageland looks for the detective. A missing pitcher of 
pearls. Sherlocko on the trail. Jake Heinz, tlie fifty-nintli variety, 
becomes a Doctor Watson. Clay finds that the course of true 
love never did run smootlily. Miss Daffodil Dotty, the poetess 
of passion, has an inspiration. The Cowboy and the Lady. "Ho, 
for the ^Vest!" A living statue. Birdie Magoogin's story. The 
new cook shows her temper. Jake Heinz, on the trail, proves 
himself a hero. Jake finds the missing heiress and wins her for 
his bride. "Then hit the trail for Savageland, three thousand 
miles away!" 

Act II. — In the Savage Mountains. Jake and Birdie on their 
honeymoon. The automatic carbuncle of the automobile explodes. 
"Ye should have used soothing syrup instead of gasoline." The 
Duchess Heinz entertains with a green tea. The Scotch Laird of 
Kilkuse. "Hoot, mon, hoot!" "He talks like an owl— because be's 
from the owld country." Music lessons in Savageland. "He hns 
a cadenza like a Jlamingo and warbles like an aurora borealis!" 
Marigold realizes that the old love is the best love. The Yaki 
Indians and their Chief, Heap Mucli Scalpem. A pipe of peace. 
Tlie Chief throws dust and declares war. The missing Goddess of 
Love. Sherlocko exposed. The storm in tlie mountains. Lightning 
strikes an old tree, it falls apart and discloses the goddess, 
Wee-nah. "The wonderful Sherlocko never fails." 

"A capacity audience at tlie Lyceum Theater last night was 
given two liours of unalloyed fun witli tlie Savages in 'Savageland' 
and many were the regrets wlien Wee-nah was discovered and 
there was nothing left to do but to return to Ithaca and the work- 
aday world." — Ithaca Evening News. 

T. S. DENISON & COMPANY, Publishers 

154 W. Randolph Street, CHICAGO 



The Thread of Destiny 

By LINDSEY BARBEE. 

Price, 25 Cents 
Comedy-drama of the Civil War in 3 acts; K males, IG females. 
Time, 2% hours. Scenes: 1 interior, 2 exteriors. Characters: 
Peyton -Bailey, of the U. S. army. Beverly Montgomery, a con- 
federate scout. Colonel Montgomery, a gentleman of the old school. 
Tom Randolph, a Southern gallant. John Morton, of the North. 
Ralph, who did not go to war. George and Uncle Billy, slaves. 
A Union Scout. Virginia, the toast of the country. B^etty, the 
"Little Colonel." Edith, a nortliern cousin. Louise, a spy. Eight 
charming southern girls. Mrs. Montgomery. Miss Melissy, of in- 
quisitive nature. Fanny and Mammy, slaves. 

SYNOPSIS. 

Act I. — Betty breaks a looking glass. Edith calms her fears 
and tells her "the signs of the times." "Virginia has seceded." 
Beverly enlists. "A Virginia woman does not even recognize an 
acquaintance among the enemies of Virginia." 

Act II. — "I don' wan' no tarnished silber linin' to my cloud." 
"There are some things more precious than money, than jewels." 
"Death cannot conquer love — nor eternity." "Some dav there will 
be no North, no South, but the Union." The Union scout falls a 
prey to Editli's fascinations and her cleverness wins the coveted 
dispatch. Virginia opens the door — to Peyton. Beverly is dis- 
covered. Friendship proves stronger than duty. 

Act III. — Three years work a great change. Peyton pleads in 
vain. George and Fanny "take de road to de Ian' of liappiness." 
"In our little circle the stars and bars are floating high." Virginia 
gives Peyton another rose and together they trace against the 
background of blue and gray "the golden thread nf destiny." 



Shadows 



By MARY MONCURE PARKER. 
Price, 15 Cents 

Play of the South today and a dream of the past in 1 act; 
an intei'ior scene; .3 males, 4 females. Time, 3.5 minutes. Charac- 
ters: Prologue and the Awakening: Robert Ashton, Virginia's 
sweetheart. Aunt Geranium, an old colored mammy. Virginia Lee, 
a southern maid. The Dream: Gordon Sanford, a soldier in love 
with Alice. Harold Hale, the successful rival. Mrs. Horace 
Fairfax, a stern mother of long ago. Alice Fairfax,^ her dutiful 
daughter. STORY OF THE PLAY. 

Virginia Lee's mother insists upon her marriage with a rich 
suitor, who has agreed to restore tlieir impoverished estate. Vir- 
ginia has a sweetheart of her cliildhood days and hesitates in 
making a choice, l)ut finally decides upon wealth instead of love. 
An old colored mammy, wlio has spent her life in tlie Lee house- 
hold, understands the situation and tells Virginia of a similar 
episode in the life of Virginia's grandmother. Virginia in ponder- 
ing over the incident and grieving over her own troubles, falls 
asleep. She dreams of the story just told and the dream folks 
appear and play their parts. Virginia awakens, tlie shadows flee 
and she comes to her senses and her lover. 

The old colored mammy says: "Dis heah ole worl's jes' full 
of shadders. Fokes comes an' dey goes, ripens and drops like the 
fruit on de tree. Ole Mars is gone, old Mistis gone. De substance 
melts and fades away. Ain't nothing left but sliadders." 

T. S. DENISON & COMPANY, Publishers 

154 W. Randolph Street, CHICAGO 



DENISON'S ACTING PLAYS 

Price 15 Cents Each, Poetpald, Unless Different Price Is Given 



Documentary Evidence, 25 min. 1 1 

Dude in a Cyclone, 20 min.... 4 2 

Family Strike, 20 min 3 3 

First-Class Hotel, 20 min 4 

For Love and Honor, 20 min.. 2 1 

Fudge and a 15urglar, 15 min.. 5 
Fun in a Photograph Gallery, 

30 min 6 10 

(ireat Doughnut Corporation, 

30 min 3 5 

Great Medical Dispensary, 30 m. 6 
Great Pumpkin Case, 30 min.. 12 

Hans Von Smash, 30 min 4 3 

Happy Pair, 25 min 1 1 

I'm Not Mesilf at All, 25 min. 3 2 
Initiating a Granger, 25 min.. 8 

Irish Linen Peddler, 40 min... 3 3 

Is the Editor In? 20 min... 4 2 

Kansas Immigrants, 20 min... 5 1 

Men Not Wanted, 30 min 8 

Mike Donovan's Courtship, 15 m. 1 3 

Mother Goose's Goslings, 30 m. 7 9 

Mrs. Carver's Fancy Ball, 40 m. 4 3 
Mrs. Ctubbins' Book Agent^. '0 

min 3 2 

My Lord in Livery. 1 hr.... 4 3 

My Neighbor's Wife. 45 min.. 3 3 

My Turn Next. 45 min 4 3 

My Wife's Relations, 1 hr 4 6 

Not a Man in the House, 40 m. 5 

Obstinate Familv, 40 min 3 3 

Only Cold Tea.' 20 min 3 3 

Outwitting the Colonel, 25 min. 3 2 

Pair of Lunatics, 20 min 1 1 

Patsy 0'V\'ang, 35 min 4 3 

Pat, the Apothecary, 35 min.. 6 2 

Persecuted Dutchman, 30 min. 6 3 

Regular Fix. 35 min. , 6 4 

Rough I>iamond, 40 min 4 3 

Second Childhood, 15 min.... 2 2 

Smith, the Aviator, 40 min... 2 3 

Taking Father's Place, 30 min. 5 3 

Taming a Tiger, 30 min 3 

That Rascal Pat. 30 min..... 3 2 

Those Red l-'nvelopes. 25 min. 4 4 
Too ^fuch of a Good Thing, 45 

min 3 6 

Treasure from Egypt, 45 min. 4 1 

Turn Him Out. 35 min 3 2 

Two Aunts and a Photo. 20 m. 4 

Two P.onnycastles. 45 min.... 3 3 
Two Ontlemen in a Fix, 15 m. 2 

Two Ghosts in White. 20 min.. S 

Two of a Kind, 40 min 2 3 

Uncle Dick's Mistake, 20 min.. 3 2 

Wanted a Correspondent. 45 m. 4 4 

WanV»<l a Hero, 20 min 1 1 

Which Will He Marry? 20 min. 2 .-- 

Who Is Who? 40 min 3 2 

Wide ICnongh for Two, 45 min. 5 2 

Wrong Babv, 25 min 8 

Yanke^e Peddler, 1 hr / :. 



VAUDEVILLE SKETCHES, MON- 
OLOGUES, ETHIOPIAN PLAYS. 

M. v. 

Ax'in' Her Father, 25 min.... 2 3 
Booster Club of Blackville, 25 m. 1 

Breakfast Food for Two, 20 m. 1 1 

Cold Finish, 15 min 2 1 

Coon Creek Courtship, 15 min. 1 1 

Coming Champion, 20 min.... 2 
Coontown Thirteen Club, 25 iii. 14 

Counterfeit Bills, 20 min 1 1 

Doings of a Dude, 20 min .... 2 1 

Dutch Cocktail, 20 min 2 

Five Minutes from Yell Col- 
lege, 1 5 min 2 

For Reform, 20 min 4 

Fresh Timothy Hay, 20 min ..21 

Glickman, the Glazier, 25 min. I I 

Handy Andy (Negro), 12 min. 2 

Her Hero, 20 min 1 1 

Hey, Rube! 15 min 1 

Home Run. 15 min .. 1 1 

Hot Air, 25 min 2 1 

Jumbo Tum, 30 min 4 3 

Little R'ed School House, 20 m. 4 

Love and Lather. 35 min..... 3 2 

Marriage and After, 10 min.. 1 

Mischievous Nigger, 25 min.. 4 2 

Mistaken Miss, 20 min 1 1 

Mr. and Mrs. Fido, 20 min 1 1 

Air. Badger's Uppers, 40 min. 4 2 
One Sweetheart for Two, 20 m. 2 

Oshkosh Next Week, 20 min . . 4 

Oyster Stew, 10 min 2 

Pete Yansen's Gurl's Moder. 10 

.min 1 

Pickles for Two, 1 5 min 2 

Pooh Bah of Peacctown.^ 35 min. 2 2 

Prof. Black's Funnygraph. 15 m. 6 

Recruiting Office, 15 min 2 

.Sham Doctor, 10 min 4 2 

.Si and I, 1 5 min I 

.Special Sale, 15 min 2 

.Stage Struck Darky, 10 min.. 2 1 

Sunny Son of Italy, 15 min.. 1 

Time Table. 20 min 1 1 

Tramp and the Actress, 20 min. 1 1 

Troubled by Ghosts, 10 min... 4 

Troubles of Rozinski, 15 min.. 1 

Two Jay Detectives, 15 min.. 3 

T^mbrella Mender, 15 min.... 2 
L^ncle Bill at the Vaudeville. 

15 min 1 

Uncle TefF. 25 min 5 2 

Wlio Gits de Reward?' 30 min. 5 1 



A grreat number of 

Standard and Amateur Piays 

not found here are listed in 

Denlson's Catalogue 



T.S.DENISON&COMPANY,Publishers,154W.RandolphSt., Chicago 



POPULAR ENTERTAIN MFNTBOOKsl 

Price, Illustrated Paper Covei LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



, 1 MKisocnrrr j » 

LITTLE PEOPLE'S 

\PLAYS/|I 




•.S.DENISOlT 
I COMPANY 
PUeUSHERS CHICAGO 



N this Series 
are found 
books touching 
every feature 
in the enter- 
tainment field. 
Finely made, 
good paper, 
clear print and 
each book has 
an attrac live 
individual cov- 
J er design. 



DIALOGUES 

All Sorts of Dialogues. 

Selected, fine for older pupils. 
Catchy Comic Dialogues. 

Very clever; for young people. 
Children's Comic Dialogues. 

From six to eleven years of age. 
Dialogues for District Schools. 

For country schools. 
Dialogues from Dickens. 

Thirteen selections. 
The Friday Afternoon Dialogues. 

Over 50,000 copies sold. 
From Tots to. Teens. 

Dialogues and recitations. 
Humorous Homespun Dialogues. 

For older ones. 
Little People's Plays. 

From 7 to 13 years of age. 
Lively Dialogues. 

For all ages; mostly humorous. 
Merry Little Dialogues. 

Thirty-eight original selections. 
When the Lessons are Over. 

Dialogues, drills, plays. 
Wide Awake Dialogues. 

P>rand new, original, succes.sful. 

SPEAKERS, MONOLOGUES 

Choice Pieces for Little People. 

A child's speaker. 
The Cornic Entertainer. 

Recitations, monologues, dialog\K<. 
Dialect Readings. 

Irish. Dutch, Negro, Scotch, etc. 
The Favorite Speaker. 

Choice prose an-d poetry. 
The Friday Afternoon Speaker. 

For p .pils of all ages. 
Humorous Monologues. 

Particularly for ladies. 
Monologues for Young Folks. 

Clever, humorous, original. 
Monologues Grave and Gay. 

Dramatic and humorous. 
The Patriotic Speaker. 

Master thoughts of master minds. 




The 
F 
Pom< 

Scrai _ - ,„, 

c 015 910 053 4 

poetry.' 14 Nos'., per No. ZSc. 

DRILLS 

The Best Drill Book. 

Very popular drills and marches. 
The Favorite Book of Drills. 

Drills that sparkle with originality. 
Little Plays With Drills. 

For children frorn 6 to 11 years. 
The Surprise Drill Book. 

Fresh, novel, drills and marches. 

SPECIALTIES 

The Boys' Entertainer. 

Monologues, dialogues, drills. 
Children's Party Book. 

Invitations, decorations, games. 
The Days We Celebrate. 

Entertainments for all the holidays. 
Good Things for Christmas. 

Recitations, dialogues, drills. 
Good Things for Thanksgiving. 

A gem of a book. 
Good Things for Washington 

and Lincoln Birthdays. 
Little Folks' Budget. 

Easy pieces to speak, songs. 
One Hundred Entertainments. 

New parlor diversions, socials. 
Patriotic Cejebrations. 

Great variety of material. 
Pranks and Pastimes. 

Parlor games for children. 
Private Theatricals. 

How to put on plays. 
Shadow Pictures, P'antomlmeSf 

Charades, and how to prepare. 
Tableaux and Scenic Readings. 

New and novel; for all ages. 
Twinkling Fingers and Sway- 
ing Figures. For little tots. 
Yuletide Entertainments. 

A choice Christmas collection. 

MINSTRELS, JOKES 

Black American Joker. 

Minstrels' and end men's gags. 
A Bundle of Burnt Cork Comedy. 

Monologues, stump speeches, etc. 
Laughland,vla the Ha-Ha Route. 

A merry trip for fun tourists. 
Negro Minstrels. 

All about the business. 
The New Jolly Jester. 

Funny stories, jokes, gags, etc. 

Laree Illustrated Catalogue Free 



T.S. DENISON & COMPANY, Publishers, 154 W. Randolph St.. Chicagt 



